


Skyrim: Kinktober 2018

by NoAnonymity



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angry Sex, Bathing/Washing, Begging, Biting, Body Worship, Bondage, Breasts, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Gags, Gen, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Humiliation, Impact Play, Knifeplay, Masochism, Mirror Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Praise Kink, Public Sex, Rimming, Role Reversal, Roleplay, Sadism, Scent Kink, Scissoring, Size Difference, Sleepy Sex, Suspension, Tentacles, Tribadism, Uniform Kink, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 12:04:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 30
Words: 36,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17022285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoAnonymity/pseuds/NoAnonymity
Summary: 30/31 days of Kinktober because I gave up at the last hurdle, but the rest are good!Migrating from Tumblr.Rape/non-con is not featured in all pieces, will only be found in two or three and will be tagged as such in the chapter summary.Let the NSFW commence!





	1. Day 1: Deepthroating ft. Ghorbash the Ironhand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: Unspecified   
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Oral sex, Rough sex
> 
> Seeing their loyal follower tired from a long day of construction, the Dragonborn decides its time they show just how much they appreciate his efforts, though Ghorbash decides he wants his payment in a very specific way.

The orc stretched up on his legs, arching his back until it popped, before settling down on the bench and laying his head back against the wooden wall. The kitchen was complete, the hauling of stone to craft the oven had taken most of his strength, so to relax on the balcony, on his own little bench, soaking in the evening sun, was very much welcome. He took deep breaths, the loose ties at the front of his shirt stretching with every inhale. He could smell the flowers, the lake, and could hear the soft buzzing of the bees in their apiary. It was serene until he caught the sound of hooves swiftly approaching, followed by a familiar voice.

“Ghorbash by the gods this is incredible!” within a minute they had thundered up the stairs, spinning to admire the craftsmanship he had performed. His grin grew at their awe, chest swelling with pride.

“you think this is impressive you should see the inside.” He cocked his head toward the door, chuckling deeply as they raced on through. He sighed, shaking his head and rubbing the sweat from his brow. It would be a while before sunset - he thought - he was sure to only grow hotter in this weather. So before long, he was busying himself removing his shirt, though not fast enough, as the dragonborn had suddenly come through the doors, latching themselves around his waist. They squeezed tightly, his arms tangled in his shirt and unable to escape their grip, causing them to laugh and press up against his bare skin in a torturous way.

“you’ve surpassed my expectations once again it would seem, someday I’ll definitely give you that raise.” They pulled themselves off him, and even though he felt warm, he craved to have them back against him.

“you don’t even pay me, to begin with.” He muttered lightheartedly. He didn’t need pay, they gave him his share of the loot, new weapons, armour, food, and now, with the completion of Lakeview manor fast approaching, they’d offered to him a permanent home. But only as their steward. He’d stopped lying to himself of his feeling months ago, the desire to be more than a follower to the dragonborn. Many nights he’d spent in dreams of being a good husband, adventuring to earn their keep and growing a fierce armoury at the same time, whilst others had been much more heated.

Even the thought of those long nights made the images flash through his mind, their body bent over every piece of furniture in Skyrim, ass raised and gaping from his cock, mind melted with ecstasy that only he could give to them. So many nights he’d spent, knuckle bit to calm his ragged breaths as he fucked his fist under the cover of night. Their sleeping form had never been too far away and though he felt dirty afterwards, he couldn’t help but think what they’d feel like, sound like. He’d imagined them hot and tight, screaming his name as he fucked them into the dirt, begging for that peak of pleasure but not truly wanting it to end. They’d been wonderful nights, but despite being a brave warrior, he wasn’t brave enough to act upon them.

There had been occasions where he’d felt hopeful, that he’d caught their glance or heard their hushed whimpers in the middle night, and he’d wondered if they were thinking of him too. He was sure they’d advanced on him at some points, the instance of needing to be closer together during the cold, the slowed reaction of covering themselves when he’d caught them bathing. Even still, he’d never acted upon them, the hopeless case he was.

“thinking happy thoughts?” their voice broke his reverie, and he found himself following their gaze to his hardened cock, pushing against his pants so hard they were threatening to split. He swallowed hard, purple tint coating his cheeks to his ears as he stammered for something, anything, that wouldn’t make this sudden pit he was falling into deeper.

“I can explain- “

“I don’t think you need to.” A yelp - a strange noise coming from him – was forced from his throat as his cock was seized, the tight hand dragging him towards the dragonborn. “don’t think I haven’t heard you Ghorbash, seen you, the way you look at me, the way you touch yourself at night, for months I’ve dealt with this… frustration…and I think it’s time we end it. I know your codes, I know how you are in the strongholds, there is a way, a man takes what he desires, and I’ve waited but I’ve had enough. I want you.” Their hands pumped his shaft through the cloth, the friction bitingly painful but it was them, and just that had him rock hard and seeping. He couldn’t stop thrusting, desperation and turmoil surging through his body at such a restricted touch. “Let me have you.”

He hadn’t meant to be so forceful, but their soft, pleading words had sent something near animalistic through his veins. He shoved them to their knees, ripping open the front of his trousers and throwing aside his loincloth. Dexterous fingers caressed his thick thighs, pressing and running against the indents of muscle. He throbbed painfully, a reminder of just how much he needed this. He clasped the back of their head, holding it steady as he pushed forward, parting moist lips with his cock. They suckled on the head as he thrust, pre-cum seeping and wetting their mouth so when he pulled back, thick, heavy tendrils of saliva and semen joined them together.

The base of his shaft was pumped and twisted, causing the vulgarities to flow from his lips like a waterfall. He forced his way back in, deeper, till his head hit the back of their throat and they gagged lewdly. He snapped for a second, pulling out at looking at them in worry, even the hand at the back of their head loosened for the sake of their welfare. So, in such a state, you can imagine the roar that came from him when they dived back onto his dick, taking him right to the base as it slid down their throat, nose buried in his thicket of pubic hair. The way they gagged was obscene, nothing more than what a street whore would sound like, but he fed on it like a starving man, pulling all the way to the head and forcefully shoving it back in.

He resisted thrusting, latching his hands onto either side of their head and pulling them onto his cock, long languid movements letting him feel their throat tighten as they struggled to swallow around him. He pulled them close, throat flexing around him till they pounded against his thigh. They pushed off gasping, choking on air and tears leaking involuntarily from their eyes. The break was short, however, and soon they were back, prepped with their mouth wide open and waiting, needing his cock. He fucked them this time, pounding his cock into their throat and revelling in the gagging.

Every so often he’d pull back, only to see their watery eyes and bruising lips. He held them still with one hand, taking his prick in the other to smear the saliva around their mouth, chuckling as they chased the tip to swallow it once again. He pulled them harshly, slamming his cock into their mouth and fucking against the flesh of their cheek. He swore loudly as their teeth brushed the sensitive, purpling head, feeling the need to release far too soon. He pulled out, slapping their cheek hard with his cock before shoving it balls deep down their throat. Despite the pounding against his legs, he fucked them ruthlessly, feeling their tears against his hands and their chin dig into the top of his testicles. They went limp, moaning and gaging and hanging with only his strength to hold them up.

With three solid thrusts, he buried himself down their throat, the tightening muscles milking him of all he was worth. His semen flooded their oesophagus till they were choking, spitting up remnants as he withdrew.

He huffed deeply, sweat pouring from his forehead, to as far down as his naval. He looked upon the wreckage of the dragonborn, flushed cheeks, tear stains, and bloated lips accompanied the seemingly unhinged jaw that dripped with saliva mixed cum. The mixture fell to the decking as they groaned, struggling to raise their head to look at him, and he puffed his chest in satisfaction.


	2. Day 2: Begging ft. Brynjolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Oral sex, Vaginal sex
> 
> Brynjolf realises he’s pushed the Guild master too far past her limits, and his plan for an extravagant apology goes belly up when she decides to put him in his place.

“Come on lass, don’t be like this.” He could practically see her bristling, the fury in her eyes making him shrink back, swallowing any other words in his throat.

“Like what? Hm? Am I annoying you Brynjolf? Never listening to you? Casting aside your entire existence like yesterdays shit!?” despite their height difference, Brynjolf had ended up squashed against the wall, cowering and wincing as she towered over him. Her breath tousled his hair, and though the stray tendrils tickled his nose, he dared not move. She grumbled lowly as she left, stomping across the cistern to her desk. He didn’t move until she’d gathered her papers, tucked them haphazardly under her arm and ascended the ladder.

He exhaled deeply, fixing his hair as he slipped to the floor. His arms were propped on his knees, head hung down to look at the dark stone beneath him. He sat like that for a while, listening to the water and stewing on his predicament, until patronizing tuts disturbed his self-pity.

“What have you gotten yourself into this time?” Delvin’s raspy voice got closer as he stood over Brynjolf, kicking at the loose gravel in the cracks of stone.

“She won’t speak to me.” Although he wasn’t expecting wise words, he didn’t expect him to laugh. He rose his head, eyeing the cackling thief at his side.

“That all?” He chuckled. “Sounds like you got off easy mate, she’s been pissy at you for months.” Delvin turned to leave and Brynjolf hauled himself up, chasing after his friend as he entered the Flagon.

“What do you mean? Has she said something to you.” He bumped into his shoulder as he stopped abruptly, turning to face him in the narrow of the corridor.

“Sorry Bryn got more important things to do, we’ll speak another time.” And with that he was gone, seat taken at his usual table. Brynjolf mulled over his words until it hit him like a carriage horse. Flashbacks of the months he’d spent passing her off as a common grunt when all she wanted was his companionship and assistance. That was his job, to be by her side and he’d ignored her, just like she’d said.

The redhead hit his skull against the wall, thrusting his fist against the stone and gritting his teeth. He’d been an absolute idiot.

“You know hurting yourself isn’t going to help anybody.” Sapphire stood, arms crossed and eyeing him with thin slits.

“What do you care?” He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the throbbing in his knuckles had him gritting his teeth in pain.

“I care that it’s been me she confides his, vents through, you should hear the curses she’s refrained putting on you.” He sighed tiredly, maybe he deserved it.

“What can I do Saph? Help me.” His eyes glimmered with hope as she considered, perhaps this was his chance to win back his number one.

“Alright, I’ll help, so long as you do everything I say.” Oh no.

His outfit was no different than the one he wore in the market, but the feeling of netch jelly slicking back his hair, and the arm full of flowers - freshly picked from the outskirts of Riften – made him feel utterly ridiculous. He took a deep breath before rapping his knuckles against the door. Even if you can’t convince her to forgive you, he thought back on Sapphire’s words, perhaps making yourself look like a fool will work in your favour.

He was about to leave when the door opened, revealing him wide-eyed like a fox in a trap. He watched the way she bit her lip, holding in her laughter. He seized the opportunity. “Can we talk?” His voice was low, almost pleading, and he could see the cogs turn in her head. Relief washed over him when she bumped the door wider with her hip, before going further into the house. He closed the door with a boot, fingers too busy twiddling the stems of the flowers. He swallowed thickly when he found her, perched on the chest at the foot of her bed, one knee crossed over the other and arms crossed defiantly over her chest. He coughed, swallowing his pride.

“Look, lass, I’m sorry, I’ve been an ass. I put you in a new situation and I haven’t been there to support you. You’re an amazing woman, but I was a fool to think you could be thrown into the job. We’re partners, and I’ve neglected you for selfish reasons. I’m sorry.” He’d nervously tugged leaves from their stems, having them fall to the floor in his nervous rant. He kicked them with the toes of his boot, waiting for her to speak, or at least shift, she hadn’t moved since she’d sat down.

“Alright, apology accepted.” Her voice was clipped, but it was as if a horse had been lifted off his shoulders. “But-” His head shot up at her as she stood, standing toe to toe and pushing the flowers against his chest “That doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.” And so, his world came crashing down again.

“Oh, come on lass what more can I do?” She ignored him, busying herself with whatever was in her wardrobe instead. “Lass please, I’m begging you.” That caught her attention. She slammed the doors, marching towards him and tearing the flowers from his hands, dropping them to join the fallen leaves.

“Then beg.” A shiver went up his spine at her tone, he could feel her roving eyes undressing him by the second. He should’ve known, you don’t become guild master, nightingale, and the dragonborn by being submissive.

He got down on his knees, shamefully eyeing the forming bulge in his pants. “Please forgive me.” She moved in front of him and he moaned, deep in his throat, he could smell her, the pungent smell of sex coming through her thin breeches. “please.” He was conflicted over what he was begging for now. Her bare foot pressed into his lap, the ball rolling against his semi-hard cock. He sucked in a breath, leaning back and bucking his hips up into her touch. He hadn’t been near a woman since she arrived, and now here he was, kneeling and pleading with his eyes, desperate for anything from her. She used the flat of her foot to rub his full length, hard and straining against the cloth. He huffed heavily, mouthing ‘please’ weakly, over and over. He was so close, so when she suddenly stopped he nearly sobbed, but all air fled his lungs as she started to strip, slivers of bare skin illuminated by the candlelight. By the time she was bare, she was sat, spread-eagled, the neat crop of hair barely hiding her swollen nub. He could see her lips glistening with her juices, the sight and smell making his mouth water. “Oh, by divines, please.” The way she chuckled had his cock pulsing, and he nearly leapt onto her when she spread her lips for him. His tongue sucked and slurped around her clit, fingers delving into her hole and feeling roughly for her g-spot. He fingered her quickly, unrelenting in his onslaught till her legs were trembling, and her lungs struggled for air. His free hand pulled himself from his pants, working the thick shaft with long, languid, tugs. pre-cum slicking his every stroke.

She came with a shuddering cry, thighs squishing against his ears, but it was the most wonderful thing to watch, her coming undone under his touch. He stripped himself as he rose, hopping out of his underwear and lining his cock with her. He was about to press in when she kneed him in the side, her sudden strength flipping them over and stunning him into submission. he groaned as her dragon strength gripped his arms at his sides, moist flesh rubbing against his cock. The head throbbed painfully against her quim, but her wicked smile had him trembling all over. “please, gods please, I need you.” He struggled with his words, breath laboured and hips bucking to feel her tight around him.

“Please what?” she pressed her whole body against him, licking and sucking at his prominent collar bones. He squirmed beneath her, red-faced, teeth clenched in desperate anguish.

“Fuck me, please lass- oh gods!” He was breathless in an instant, her cunt stretching to take him balls deep in one go. She bounced at a furious pace, releasing his arms to balance on his broad chest. He gripped her hips tightly, fingertips digging into flesh strong enough to leave bruises. He held her still, thrusting up into her, balls slapping against her arse. She screamed at his pace, cock pounding against the entrance to her womb, shaft rubbing against her g-spot. He moaned deeply as she took to her clit, snapping that band and cumming so hard she saw stars. He was about to cum, spill his load into her hot quim when she jerked off almost painfully. He was sweaty, out of breath, fingers trembling around her hips and oh so desperate for release.

She pressed herself against him once more, pulling at his earlobe with her teeth before whispering. “Sorry, lad, got important things to do, you’ll cum another time.” And with that, she was off him and gone into the shadows. He hauled himself up, glancing around for any sign of her before collapsing back onto the bed with a moan, pushing back his hair and whispering softly.

“Please…”


	3. Day 3: Knifeplay ft. Nazir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M   
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Knives, Blood, Vaginal fingering
> 
> Rebuilding the brotherhood has been a taxing job on them both, so the listener decides its time the pair have some well-deserved R & R, in the form of testing their new torture chamber.

She watched with bated breath as he rolled out the leather, hearing the knives clinking against each other as it opened. She couldn’t take her eyes off his fingers, dancing over the handles, trying to pick out his preferred tool for the session. The metal hissed as he drew the blade from its holding, the sight of the clever causing her heart to skip a beat, instinctively pulling against her restraints. He chuckled darkly, sliding his thumb across the metal before slamming the knife into the wooden table. She jolted at the sound, heart racing at the way the wood splintered. She found herself unable to take her eyes off his hands, fingers sliding from the handle, back to knife set. With two fingers, he walked them off to the edge, pausing to glance at her. He held her gaze, a slowly forming smirk upon his lips as he drew out a knife, tucking it in his robes and out of her sight.

Her heart raced as he slowly approached her, hands tucked behind his back. He stood there, silently watching her, and it made her tremble, the heat rising in her core and wetness pooling between her legs. He stared her down till she looked away, eyes dancing across the cracks in the floor of the chamber. Suddenly, she heard the quick hiss of silver, the pad of his thumb running quickly off the blade to create the soft yet enticing sound. She shuffled on her knees, trying to lean in as close to him as the shackles would allow. She shivered as he crouched down, his deep chuckle sending gooseflesh up her arms, and wetness to her lower regions. He lent in close, kissing her cheek softly, each kiss landing in time with a flick of the knife, the sound echoing in her ears. She giggled softly at the slight itch of his beard but never the less turned to kiss him, deeply, slowly, tongues parting lips to slide against one another. He moaned softly, breath fanning against her skin as they parted.

“Don’t jump.” She hummed softly in understanding, but it soon turned to a long moan as he ran the tip of the knife up her ribcage. It was long, slender, reflecting the candlelight. His favourite steak knife, everything about it got them both excited, knowing the damage it could do in the wrong hands, and the pleasure it could create in the right ones. The knife had never spilt a contracts blood, it was pure, untainted by the filth they were sent to clean. He thought it blessed, cleansed with her blood on numerous occasions. He moaned at the memory, dragging the tip up between her breasts, then laying the blade flat, pressing it over the mound of flesh, running it slowly across until the pebbled nipple sprung free from beneath. She gasped at the cool sensation, tugging on her bottom lip as he repeated the action on her other breast. Her grin widened each time her nipple popped from beneath the cool blade, which turned to a giggle as he followed through with warm, wet, kisses. His tongue flicked against one nipple whilst the knife flicked against the other, then turning to drag the tip beneath the mound of flesh. He sucked the nipple into his mouth, tugging her breast as he slipped the knife back up between her breasts. She was a moaning mess by the time he released her with a pop, chuckling darkly at her flushed skin. He leant in once more, trailing his lips and the blade symmetrically along her collar bones, and up her neck.

His closeness was a blessing, as his thigh was now placed between her kneeling legs, and she could grind against it enthusiastically, feeling her wetness soak through her underclothes. He moaned at her actions, feeling her pulse rise through his lips, as his cock stiffened at the increasing dampness on his thigh. He leant back, enraptured by the way she rutted against him, laboured breath and hushed moans slipping from her lips. He dug the length of the blade into the soft flesh of her stomach, making the flesh dip, tingle, but not enough to cut. She groaned wantonly, feeling the slight sting of the knife as she moved, and the increasing pressure in the pit of her stomach that made her feel fit to burst. He could see, feel, just how close she was, the desperate moans and gyrations spurring on her climax, but he wished to be the one that finished it. With a palm pressed to her shoulder, a sign for her to steady, he pulled the blade towards him, slicing the flesh thinly and cleanly. She came with a choked scream, and he revelled in the sight. Her thighs trembled, clenching and quaking around his own. His favourite part, however, was her blood, rivulets trickling down her flesh and pooling at the junction of her thigh. It streamed further, finally dripping onto his trousers, the bloody puddle neighboured by the wet patch her dripping cunt had caused.

Slowly, she came down from her high, a cat-like grin remaining from the rush of ecstasy. She went to lean in, to kiss him deeply, hold his face in her hands, only to jolt, realising she was still restrained by the shackles. They both laughed, their voices echoing through their sanctuary. He twirled the knife in his hands, her blood sleekly coating the edge of the blade, before standing and placing it on the table. He was quick to remove the shackles, taking her wrists gently, kissing the rubbed skin with plump lips.

“You were spectacular as always my dear.” He whispered lowly, grinning at the way she shivered. He helped her up, letting her lean against the table as he took to cleaning his blade.

“Don’t think we’re done yet, my love.” She pressed her breasts against his back running her hands beneath his clothes, fingers fluttering over his abs. He hummed lowly, distracted, he missed the way one hand broke free, slipping her favourite bird’s beak knife from its hold. She tucked it into her hand, delving back beneath his shirt with it concealed. His breath was easy until he felt the chilled tip against his skin. His abs tensed, air sucked in between gritted teeth. “I’ve yet to play with your curved sword.”


	4. Day 4: Mirror Sex ft. Gelebor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Oral sex, Vaginal sex
> 
> A heated encounter between the Paladin and the Dragonborn heats up even further when the Knight begins to see their relationship from a whole new angle.

The snow elf thrust deeply into her, snapping his hips and making her moan with each thrust. His head fell back, revelling in the sounds of pleasure that slipped from her lips. He gazed down upon her, hoping to find her as he usually would, eyes rolled back, gasping for air, fingers gripping rapidly – desperately at the furs. Instead, he found her facing away from him, eyes open and focused on the back wall. His hips slowed to a stop, following her gaze and raising a curious eyebrow at their distant mirror image. She gasped, quickly turning her head and hiding within her hands. He could see how her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the shade reaching the tips of her ears. He pulled his softening dick from her, running his hands soothingly up and down her legs.

“Darling don’t hide from me.” He leant over her slowly, hands smoothing over her hips, waist, the expanse of her ribs, then floating to her forearms and up to her hands. “what were you looking at?” he pulled her palms away gently, her eyes shying away from his gaze. “I shan’t laugh, promise.” He held himself against her, listening to her rushing heartbeat, smiling when her fingers started to run through his hair.

“I like seeing it.” He could feel her heart pick up in her chest, fingers nervously twirling his short strands between the tips. He hummed softly, urging her to continue. “Being able to see us together, watching you do the amazing things you do, its tenfold – the pleasure I mean – not to say that you don’t make me feel good as is – you’re amazing!” He chuckled as she rambled, nuzzling against her collarbone. From his position upon her chest, he could eye the far corner - one of many areas that had yet to defrost within the inner sanctum – and found himself flushing pink to the tips of his ears, as the visions of them making love in the multiple reflections filled his mind. He was old, but he was willing to try.

He pushed himself up from her, lightly flushed but giddy at the idea of acting so young and experimental. He took her hands, hauling her up, and tossing her over his shoulder. He gave a playful smack to her bare ass, biting back a moan at the echo that filled the room. He couldn’t, however, hold back the squawk when she delivered a similar treatment, which only made him speed up his pace to the corner. He placed her down in a hurry, pushing her up against the wall with his broad chest. They were both panting, grinning, and blushing like adrenaline fuelled teenagers. But the way she giggled had him weak at the knees, to be alone for so long, then to have this… goddess…like this before him, made his heart swell and a lump form in his throat. She smiled softly, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him deeply, hands roving over the endless bare skin. When they parted, he nuzzled his pointed nose against her cheek, not so subtly turning her head till she gasped.

He looked past her profile, the wall iced over but clear, untouched, two carbon copies tinted blue looked back at them, embraced with contrasting flushed skin. From the corner of his eye, he watched himself kiss down her body till he was on his knees, tongue swirling around her navel. Her eyes never left the ‘mirror’ only gasping and moaning as she followed his reflection, being able to see all of him instead of the top of his head.

Her teeth tugged on her plump bottom lip as he dipped further, lifting the leg that wouldn’t obstruct his view of their copies. His tongue devoured her greedily, messily, slurping and sucking with enthusiasm that made up for his recent lack of practice. Their first time had been awkward, he’d all but forgotten what it was to treat a woman, and he certainly wasn’t aware of how the practices had changed, but, ‘practice makes perfect’ as she had said. His nose probed her clit in a painfully teasing way, rubbing it just the right ways before being completely absent. He moaned into her cunt as she gripped the top of his head, watching as she attempted to get him to devour her even more, hips grinding desperately against him. With a sharp suck to her clit, she was cumming, arching off the ice and trembling in his hands, his eyes dashed between the beauty above and beside him, cock jumping in anticipation.

His hands palmed her flesh as he stood, slowly, soothingly, turning her over, receiving a moan as she saw their other reflection in front of her, his eyes peeking over her shoulder as he planted wet kisses on her skin. He pulled her hips with him, resting his cock between her ass until she was arched, hands pressed against the ice to support her. He couldn’t stop the deep, primal, groan that followed, seeing her bent before him from so many angles had his cock aching, begging, twitching against her.

“Oh shit, Gelebor.” He leant to the side, following her gaze to the floor. It too was iced over, he could see the expanse over her body that was normally hidden from his view in such a position. He could see her cunt glistening with her wetness, and though the tilted angle was awkward, neither could look away as he slipped his pale cock into her quim. They moaned together, panting as she stretched to him, his length disappearing into her cunt. He watched till his neck hurt, his cock slowly slipping in and out of her, slick with her juices. He straightened out, still thrusting painfully slow for the pair, watching himself in the front mirror, the way she gasped, fogging up the view for a second with each heated breath, the way her brow began to dampen, and the way her eyes rolled when he brushed against that perfect spot.

It was when he faced the side view that he moaned, noting the way their thighs met, the way she pushed back into him, taking as much as she could into her greedy cunt, and suddenly the appeal of why she’d done this earlier was so obvious. He couldn’t take his eyed off the view as he picked up the pace, snapping his hips hard and short, pulling her hard against him each time so he bottomed out with each thrust. His cock was slender but long, and it pushed hard against the opening to her womb with each snap, so her sudden, loud, wails echoed around the hall.

Her view was focused beneath them, mesmerised by his cock disappearing inside of her, the way her breasts bounced suddenly with each of his thrusts. Her nails chipped into the ice, her orgasm building as he picked up the pace, holding her hips and pounding into her. His cock pulled out to the head only to thrust back into the deepest parts of her, running teasingly against her g-spot. He could see the little ways in which she reacted, the almost pained face she pulled when she was so close, but he couldn’t get it just right.

He hauled her against him, bending his knees and lifting one of her legs onto his thigh. He held it there with his forearm as his fingers attacked her clit. The position was dangerous – especially on the ice - but the way she reached back to claw at his shoulders, and the full-frontal view he could see over hers had his confidence sky high – he was willing to take the risk. He pounded up into her, hypnotized by her sounds, her breasts, distracted by the way her cunt tightened around him with each circle of his fingers. He man-handled her clit and it only made her louder, bouncing on him as much as she could with one foot on the ground, and it was all worth it when she came.

She screamed with the sudden release, grasping for any part of him she could reach. The grip of her cunt, the bite of her nails, and the way her voice echoed made him groan louder than he had any time previously. She milked him for all he had, his thighs flexing uncontrollably. He felt his balls tighten, pumping his load deep into her, spilling onto the ice when she could hold no more.

She gave out onto him, and as slowly as he could, he gave out onto the floor, his softening cock slipping from her. His cum dripped from her pussy, pooling between his legs onto the ice. She stayed in his lap like that, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, clammy forehead pressed against her shoulder blade, but neither could care. Their panting soon faded, breath evening out and heartbeats falling in sync. He caught her staring at their reflection, twined with one another upon Auriels walls, and as she smiled through the mirror at him, the afterglow lighting up all her features, he couldn’t help smiling back.


	5. Day 5: Sadism/Masochism ft. Ancano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Oral sex, BDSM
> 
> She doesn’t like him, not the way he talks to her, to the others, talks about the others. Nor the way he wonders around like he owns the place when there isn’t even a point to him being there. The way he eavesdrops, sticking his pointed ears and nose into places they don’t belong. She doesn’t like, but she can tolerate him long enough to show him his place.

The midden was a dank, dark place, somewhere one could do as they’d please, and nobody would hear a thing. It was a maze, where running would lead you a dead end, lost in a labyrinth of ice and stone. The apprentice knew her way. First, it was the Auger, then multiple visits to the strange daedric gauntlet, an escapade which had funded her handsomely for training sessions at the atronach forge.

Yes, she knew her way, her little pet, however, did not, and so he was forced to stay obediently at her side, for running would get him nowhere, and in even more trouble. The altmer shivered with each step she made, her gait was extended, steady, but to crawl at her pace was painful, his knees scraping and slipping upon the ice, then grazing against the stone. His palms were no better, imprinted where he had pressed into fine gravel, and filthy from the years of neglect upon the floors. His cock, however, was in a fine state, solid, reddening and swollen at the tip. It hung between his legs in all its golden glory, bouncing as he crawled, the leather strips that wound around the base of his cock and balls, tight, and making him feel things he really shouldn’t.

She’d rid him of his robes the instant the hatch was closed, her mouth hot on his, kissing him deeply as he hands pressed to every new bit of skin. He’d watched her before, this curious beauty that enticed him so much it would make his ancestors turn in their graves. In all his observations, he never accounted for this. She had him naked, and before he could think he was on his knees, her hand gripped around his throat. He thought she’d kill him for sure, that cruel smirk making his blood run cold.

“Stay.” She’d whispered, and for some unknown reason, he did. He hadn’t moved, barely blinked as she’d crouched to take his cock in hand, tying it with leather straps. The next was his neck, wrapped in soft, expensive silk that caressed his skin. She connected it to a much longer leather piece, the end wrapped once around her knuckles. She grinned wickedly, and with a testing tug, he found himself following her, pathetically crawling along behind her. His cock started to swell, and soon he was moaning like a virgin at the tension the straps created.

Which led him to where he was now, full mast and burning to release, the tension was suffocating. They’d stopped in a bare room, a simple cupboard, table and chair, the atronach forge through the archway. She sat upon the chair as he knelt in the centre of the floor, she’d dropped his leash, but he’d found himself too afraid to move, settling to let her observe the way the forge illuminated his golden skin.

She didn’t like Ancano, but there was no denying he was pretty, especially in this state, hunched over and shivering, but still unable to control those animalistic instincts the altmer desired to bury. She could feel herself getting wetter the more she eyed him, the slightly tousled hair, rising chest, the flex of his abdominals as he fought his own erection. She leaned back against the wardrobe, hooking one leg onto the table, and the other over the back of the chair. To her satisfaction he jolted when she shredded her leggings, baring her naked quim to his stare.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, dexterous fingers sliding between her moist lips, circling the clit. She rubbed with deep breaths, watching him with lidded eyes, the way he shook, not from the cold but from anticipation, the way his nostrils flared at her scent, and the way his shuddered with every exhale. 

“Would you like a taste, my pet?” He grimaced dramatically, turning his head away for no longer than five seconds before it was turned back, lured by her obscene moaning. “I want an answer.”

“Yes.” It was clipped, quiet, he knew she heard it from her grin but even so.

“Little louder this time.”

“Yes.” His blood was clearly no longer in his brain for he could hear the desperation.

“Yes, what?” she asked with an impish smile. His cocked pulsed hard against the restraints, his moan slipping out in a way he didn’t think possible for someone of his caliber.

“Yes, mistress.” He crawled towards her quickly, beckoned by a slender crooking finger. She halted him with an open palm.

“Are you listening closely?” he nodded. “I am in charge now, not just down here, but up there too. The fact you are Thalmor grants you nothing, but it does grant me the pleasure of making you kneel. You are mine, Ancano.” She noted the way he shivered at his name. “I shall be your mistress and you my slave. I will use you for pleasure as and when I please, but I shall keep it between us for your sake. Do you understand?” He mulled it over in his head, ashamed he was even considering such a thing, but he wanted her, wanted her to own him. He nodded weakly, hair falling over his face.

“I need you verbally, Ancano.” She waited patiently, briefly wondering if she had pushed too far until he sucked in a deep breath and caught sight of his cock bouncing.

“Yes, my mistress.” She breathed a sigh of relief, extending a leg and raising his head with a foot. With her leg back in its previous position and Ancanos’ eyes locked once again on her quim, she dipped in two fingers, parting her lips and exposing the hole.

“Now eat.”

His tongue dove straight in, swirling and sucking on the flesh, hands clinging to her thighs as she rocked and trembled, admittedly thrown off by his enthusiasm. He drank from her to the point he could’ve drowned, lapping up her juices and swirling them around his mouth. The taste would be there for hours but that didn’t stop him. He rutted the air, moaning against her cunt with each thrust, the binds squeezing with each pulse of his cock.

The vibrations were unexpected and as he moved to swirl his tongue around her clit, it all became too much. She came hard, days without release flooding his mouth with a new flavour. The pressure, taste, and the grip on his hair had him moaning again, causing her to spasm violently at her own sensitivity. She pushed him off roughly, huffing as she came down from her high. She could see his lips glistening with her own juices, making her quiver all over, the gooseflesh rising on her arms.

“Stand.” She breathed, and so he did. On weak legs she joined him, walking two fingers up his abs, between his pectorals, up the prominent pulse of his neck, and behind the dip of his jaw until she reached his ear. Her fingertips lightly danced upon the tip as she slowly circled around him, trailing two fingers from the other hand up his back till she once again came to a tip. He sighed at the soft touches, the ears were so sensitive but so often neglected.

“Listen closely pet, you are not to cum, you are not to touch yourself, and you are not to move. You are to whine, moan, and beg, give me a good reason and I shall reward you.” One tip was tweaked quickly, a restrained cry forced from his lips.

“Yes mistress, I understand. I shall not cum.”

“Good boy.” She rolled the tips, slowly and nimbly between the pads of her fingers, the affections making his jaw drop, a long, breathy moan following shortly.

Her torture was long, he’d lost count how many times he’d nearly came, begging her to stop briefly, the fear of her punishment for a premature climax greater than the need to release. He fucked the air with sharp shallow thrusts as her fingers twisted and tugged, pulled so much he would’ve reversed into her had it not been for her strict order. His cock was bronze now, bulging over the restraints painfully, balls tightening with the building release.

“Oooooh…m-mistress!” he wailed, tears leaking from his eyes at the oncoming wave. She chuckled darkly, pinching his tips almost painfully.

“Cum.”

He screamed, the desperation echoing off the walls. His cock pulsed to the point his leathers snapped, opening the floodgates and sending his seed flying. It spurted over the chair, the continuing hot streams creating a puddle that dripped down onto the floor, the creamy fluid seeping into the cracks.

She stood back, admiring the obnoxious spasms and thrusts he made to milk himself of his sperm. The feeling of her fingers must have lingered for he still moaned, leaning into her invisible touch. Slowly, agonizingly, he came out of his euphoric haze. His legs buckling suddenly. When he’d collapsed to the floor, the deja vu hit him like a brick. The stone bruising his knees, scraping his hands, the maddening vulnerability. She had gotten just what she wanted, no forced submission, but for him to give himself to her. As he had, with his cum coating the chair like lacquer.

“You did well today my pet, you were far more obedient than you’ve shown yourself capable of. Well done” After all he’d been through, it was her praise that had him blushing. “You will recover, then crawl back to the entrance, dress, then come to me in my quarters, I do believe we have some terms to discuss.” She had left swiftly, and in his solitude, he removed the tedious dangling leash from the silk collar. He turned it in his hands, realising he could do as he pleased now, she was not here.

However, even with that thought in mind, the altmer crawled back through the ice, stunningly eager to please his new mistress.


	6. Day 6: Biting ft. Serana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/F  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Oral sex, Vaginal fingering, Blood
> 
> The Dragonborn was an enabler, feeding Serana’s addiction in the best way possible. At least she wasn’t offering up chunks of a slaughtered bandit.

Lakeview manner was a peaceful place, with the lake, and the bees, and the necromancer that respected people’s privacy. Yes, it made her feel almost serene - the homestead her wife had constructed – had the trap door not screeched so much.

“Sorry.” The dragonborns’ smile thinned apologetically, shuffling up the last few steps of the ladder and creaking the hatch closed. “Keep forgetting to fix that.”

The vampire rolled her eyes, returning to lean on the balustrade. The dragonborn joined her, arms pressed together at the shoulder, but instead of looking out over the lake as Serana was, she took to looking at her lover, the way the roof shadowed her face, making her eyes glow an incredible orange catching the way they flicked towards her, cheek tightening involuntarily, a nervous twitch she didn’t even know she had.

“What now?” The irate woman barked, turning to glare at the offender. The dragonborn pressed herself up to her lover, chests packed tightly together. Serana blushed, the hue a heavy red on her pale complexion.

“you’re craving again.” She whispered huskily, breath fanning over a blushed cheek and with a force that almost sent her toppling, Serana had pushed her away, glaring with a heated gaze.

“No.” Her statement was clipped, final, no room for argument. With any other normal person at least, but not her dragonborn.

“Come oooon, you wanted me so badly the last time you craved, I couldn’t keep you off me.” The female came to wrap her arms around the other’s waist, burying her nose in her neck. Once again, Serana was prepared to shake her off, until her muffled words froze her in place. “I’m worried too.” She snuggled in closer, the heat between them growing. “I hate seeing you do this, the way you ostracise yourself, suffering in what you think is silence when all your doing is making me watch you wither away until you cave. I’ve seen what you do.”

The look she gave made her breath hitch.

“The first time I saw it wasn’t so bad, a few bandits, but you became more ravenous with each kill. You come closer to being feral each time you go out there alone. And that poor guard.” There was a silence, thick air hanging around them until they untangled the dovahkiin taking to lean against the railing, softly speaking to the wind. “Skyrim can be beautiful, but it can be dangerous, terrifying, I’m one of the only people who can cleanse it. I don’t want to lose you to it, only to be the one to destroy you afterward. Take me Serana.” She pulled down the shoulder of her tunic, revealing the expanse of skin that hid veins which flowed with life’s essence.

The vampire shook violently, trying her best to fight the urges she knew she couldn’t defeat. The dragonborn was right, fasting too long would only make things worse. She moved slowly, running the tip of her nose along the skin. She could smell the blood in her veins it had gotten so bad. She picked her spot, sensitive, supple, primed and perfect for her taking. She kissed the spot fist, encouraged by the soft hum her partner gave to continue. Her fangs inched deeper, piercing the defenses till they let loose the flood.

Droplets ran heavily, slipping past her lips whilst the rest was lapped at hungrily. The dragonborn moaned as Serana took her fill, tongue sweeping over the sensitive skin around the bite like a dog at water. They pulled each other closer, thighs interlocked to grind and stimulate matching each other’s rhythm, caressing every body part they could reach.

The tunics were the first to go, haphazardly tossed over the balcony. Whilst the dragonborn eyed Seranas bloody, swollen lips, the vampire’s eyes trailed down to her partner’s breasts, following the lines of blood that trickled from her original bite. She was the first to strike, tongue swirling around the nipple before licking a long strip up to the wound, taking the rivulets of blood with her. She dipped back down, taking the pebbled flesh between her teeth and nibbling gently. The Dragonborn shivered, goosebumps rising upon her arms from her partners’ ministrations. Fangs nipped at her flesh as Serana moved to the plump of her breasts, biting and sucking her way back up to the original mark. She left pinpricks in her wake, small bubbles of blood where the fangs had pierced, but they were not for feeding, they were marking, an unmissable reminder of who belonged to who.

With a forced palm past the waist of Seranas leggings, the dovah cupped the subtle mound between her legs, causing the vampire to detach from the bite with a gasp. The stared at each other, lust glowing in each other’s eyes. They met in a heavy kiss, the bitter taste of iron on their tongues. The dragonborn fingered her lover roughly, swallowing the moans she fed to her. Though their lips parted, Serana shook, latching and tugging on an earlobe as she felt blood seeping onto her body and between her breasts from her lovers wound.

When she came, it was like a wave washing over her, infinite trembles accompanied by hushed curses. She still twitched as the dragonborn sucked the remaining wetness from pruned fingers, ravishing the remnants. Though still hazy, light headed from orgasm, she returned to lap at the blood that had seeped from the wound, dipping back between breasts, stopping when the trail breached her leggings, blood staining the waist band. She glanced up for permission, noting the way the dragonborns skin had blossomed in deep purple circles, bruises from the pricks of teeth and fang, a mottled trail of pleasure that would spring to mind this passionate encounter for the next few weeks.

The fabric was removed easy, gathering on the deck as Serana lifting a leg upon her shoulder. She bit hard into the thigh, smearing blood across her lips as she nuzzled against the soft flesh. She pressed heavy kisses across the skin, stains of red left behind lick cheap lipstick until she came to her lovers dripping cunt.

At first, she nipped and tugged on her labia, listening closely as her lover gasped and hitched, fidgeting in want before licking a long stripe up her slit, sucking in her clit at the final point. She nibbled it gently, rolling it between her teeth till the dragonborn screamed, a restrained sound from the near painful mix of pleasure, the hint of thu’um shaking the rafters ever so slightly. Serana tugged on her clit with lips and teeth, inserting two fingers into quivering lips, grinding the tips against that familiar spot that set the dragonborn quaking. Nails dug into the banister, blood ran down her body, and the floodgates opened from the build of pressure. She came with Seranas fingers still deep inside her, working her through her ecstasy.

She felt herself pulsing as Serana returned to eye-level, tongue sliding along her body the entire way to collect up the freshly spilled blood. She bit back into the original mark, drinking up her final feed before casting a quick healing spell.

Both were breathless, bloody, and in silent agreement climbed back down into the manor. Both were in need of a bath, and a little extra attention.


	7. Day 7: Praise Kink ft. Ronthil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Oral sex, Vaginal sex
> 
> The little bosmer of the Volkihar clan had little to ask for in life, but when the new lady of the castle grants him his greatest desires, he can’t help questioning the truth of his immortality.

The first time he’d noticed his infatuation with her had been early, she had just turned, but already she was buying and selling a plethora of items to him. It was only an over-the-shoulder thank you, but it had him stunned, blushing deeply at the simple recognition. As she’d climbed the ranks he’d do more for her, going out of his way to find rare items for her, all to earn the simple praises. When she’d defeated Harkon, coming out bloodied and bruised, he’d been the one to patch her up, she thanked him endlessly, saying how good he was with stitches, it had taken all he had not to break down then and there. She came into rule, and though she once gave him an off-hand kiss, a ‘thank you for being so useful’ kind of kiss, he never expected to end up where he was today, even if he had dreamed it.

He couldn’t feel his arms, nor his legs, and from the way he babbled and slurred one would assume his mind had melted. It had, for as he gave up his fourth dry climax, he could feel his sanity slipping. His mistresses’ sheets were so soft, sleek, and cool against his burning skin, a comfort akin to her soothing words.

“That’s it little one, you’re such a good boy.” She slurped at his over-sensitive cock once more, taking it quickly down her throat before releasing it. “I’m so proud of you.” His moans sounded deranged, but he couldn’t stop them, the feeling of being wanted was all he’d asked for in his time at Volkihar, and now he had this beautiful, powerful, woman, praising him when she was doing all the work. When she invited him into her chambers that evening, this had been the last thing he’d expected. However, he seemed to feed off her praise like a starving man, as his cock was already back to attention. He was convinced the blood rushing to it was from his immobile limbs, instinctively desperate to please her further. His sensitivity caused him agony, but he would continue no matter what if it made her happy, made her keep whispering those sweet, sweet, words.

He strained with what little energy he had, but forced his head to raise, gazing upon her for a moment before it fell back to the sheets. The way she giggled made him tingle, the sound too sweet for someone who had the sexual capabilities she possessed. Yet another pathetic sound left his lips as he felt the plush flesh of her thighs against his hips, molding around the prominent bone as he mounted him. Her breasts fell against his chest, and once again he felt as is he had passed to another realm. “You make the sweetest sounds my vassal.” She kissed him softly across his shoulder, suckling gently at his pulse point when she came to it, no doubt she could feel his heart racing, hear the blood pumping through his veins. She continued her trail, pressing numerous kisses to his cheek, nuzzling at his soft skin with her nose, and he couldn’t stop the needy whine that accompanied his broad smile. “Such a good boy.” She latched her lips around his ear, tugging at the lobe, then licking a stripe to the tip. She swirled her tongue around it as she had his cock, making him squirm before releasing it.

His eyes fluttered closed, feeling her gentle touch over his chest as she sat back, taking her time to feel him, observe him. He peeked at her through low lids, watching her frown as she came to his thin hips and prominent ribs, he was malnourished, the last to feed of the clans’ leftovers. “I am sorry, my lady.” His body wasn’t worthy of her, and the sentiment was clear on his face.

“Do not be sorry Ronthil,” The way she said his name sent shivers up his spine “you are beautiful, and you will only become more so now that you have me, I will protect you, and when blood is sparse you shall feed off me. I will never let you go hungry.” He moaned as she kissed him deeply, their tongues meeting together in a passionate dance. He made a silent prayer that he wasn’t dreaming, again.

Her hands slipped between the two, fingers ghosting over his cock. “Can you give me more my pet?”

“I will give you everything I have, my lady.” And with that, she sunk onto him, both moaning, though his considerably louder. She gave shallow bounces, the head of his cock slipping in and out of her cunt with resistant pops, she was so wet, so tight. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, jaw slacked, as she finally sunk all the way, grinding against him with his dick buried deep. She felt almost like her sheets, smooth and soft, but she was so warm. She took her time, fucking herself on his prick, whilst all he could do was watch the beautiful show.

“Oh, gods Ronthil!” She leaned back, weight balanced on his thighs as they both watched her snatch swallow his cock, slick with her juices, the obscene noises had her wailing like a banshee. “Oh, gods your so good. Mmm- fuck!” he nearly came just from the way she swore, but he wanted to give her more, he wanted more praise, to be told how good he felt, how good he made her feel. He summoned as much strength as he could, pure adrenaline allowing him to grab her hips, crook his legs, and thrust up into her. He slammed as hard as he could, shallow thrusts driving his cock into her sweetest spot. He knew he had it, for the praises were dripping from her lips like honey.

“Oh fuck! Don’t stop! Yes yes yes- right there! Oooohh gods!”

“so good, so good, do- don’t stop, oh yes! Ronthil!”

She sounded like a symphony, her every word spurring him on and driving him into her. Their skin slapped together, and their wails were so loud there were no doubts members inside the castle could hear - but he didn’t care - he was hers, he made her feel like this, and he was high on the lust the two shared.

“Ugh! M-mistress!” he pulled her hard onto him, back arching and squirming as he came dryly. The way he pulsed and fucked into her was enough to send her overboard, her own cum coating his cock as she ground against it. He muttered insanely, the brief sensations of her grinding making him twitch sporadically. He was spent beyond what he knew possible, convinced he’d come back to life, only to die again beneath her. It would certainly be his perfect idea of death.

“You are amazing my vassal” she whispered tiredly, gentle hands kneading his aching hips, the state of euphoria hitting him so hard he could barely keep his eyes open. He kissed his skin, whispering the same soft words that got him so worked up in the first place, but now, as she tended to him, they lulled him off to sleep like the sweetest of lullabies. He promised himself he would sleep well, replenished for the next day where he would earn his ladies praises all over again.


	8. Day 8: Hate sex/Angry sex ft. Ulfric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Imperial  
> Warnings:Rape, NSFW, Oral sex, Analingus, Vaginal sex, Rough sex.
> 
> She doesn’t know what he’s done for her – he knows this – and whilst he doesn’t expect anything in return, the fact that she’s turning against him is something he just can’t let happen.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” his baritone carried throughout the empty hall, washing over the Imperial like waves, and she was drowning.

“No,” at her sides, her fists clenched till they were white-knuckled, “And I have no idea why you’ve had me dragged here. I have no time for your pathetic excuse of politics.”

“You lie!” his sudden outburst was enough to make her jump back, crashing into the table behind her. He stood from his throne, marching down and standing toe to toe with her. He towered over the imperial, mouth drawn into a stern frown, hairs falling out of place. It was so unlike him, but then nothing did get to him like the Dragonborn. He fixed them with a harsh glare, though she could easily see the sadness behind it. “Why are you working for them?”

“Ulfric I don’t understand.” He studied her, her genuine confusion cooling his rising temper.

“Two weeks ago, I sent a stormcloak brigade to find you, I’d heard you were acting upon the empires wishes, that you were serving that bitch Elisif. I sent three men, they saw you, dressed like some imperial courtier and getting smarmy with the jarl. One even reported you joining her steward in his bed-“ The slap he received echoed, stunning him into silence.

“You’ve been tracking me? Sending strangers after me and you have the gall to accuse me?” Her voice was clipped, and the jarl could feel his temper returning tenfold. “I want no part in this war, there are far more important things for me to do. I thought being civil with both parties would be easier than having to avoid them, but you’ve just proved me wrong.” She shoved him away, he gave no resistance, only gritting his teeth till he could feel the veins in his head bulge.

He released his thu’um, throwing her onto the table. She started, groaning at the sudden pain from whatever cutlery she had landed on, attempting to spin off the table, only to be stopped by the weight of the Jarl.

Ulfric gripped her wrists painfully tight, pounding his white-knuckled fists against the table with a force that made it splinter. “Skyrim is the most important thing, and whether you like it or not you are responsible for it. Whether you kill this dragon or not the country will still be in danger. I’ve been patient, sending men to guard you, do you not think those imperial dogs will stab you in the back the moment they’ve finished with you? I want you with me, on my side, I’ve wanted you since you jumped out that damned tower in Helgen. I saw two legends that day, and I will not let the empire have you.” She squirmed dramatically, futilely attempting to wriggle away from his grip and the ever-growing erection she could feel against her thigh.

He pulled her up, throwing her to the floor where she hit her head. Her vision was blurred temporarily, but it was enough time for him to draw out his cock, forcing her mouth open and shoving in the semi-flaccid length. He growled as he fucked her mouth, her hair tangled wildly between his fingers as he held her head. She started gagging as his cock stiffened, coming to its full length down her throat. She pounded against his thighs, the feeling of her teeth scraping gently against the shaft, making him groan. He pulled out, the thick threads of saliva dripping heavily onto her.

“Tell me, does Tullius treat you like this? I bet he doesn’t have the balls.” With one hand he pulled her forward, pushing her lower so he could lift his cock and let his balls drop into her mouth. He ground against her face, tugging his cock as she sucked on his testicles, tongue swirling around both individuals. He moaned deeply, feeling his thighs quake with the oncoming climax. He pulled her off him, marching and dragging her to the throne. She sobbed with the brutal grip, tears falling from her eyes as she scrambled to keep up with him. He was sure the servants that had hidden away could hear them, but that only made it better. He pulled his legs from his trousers, sitting on his throne and throwing a leg over the arm.

He yanked her forward, shoving her face into his arse. Her nails scrapped against the throne, his arse, his thighs, leaving burning red streaks in their wake. He rocked into them, feeling her tongue press roughly against his asshole. He gritted his teeth as he grinned, harshly tugging at his cock. “You’ve been brown-nosing the empire so much I thought you’d be accustomed to this.” He threw his head back when he felt her tongue enter his arse, fucking him as her fingers dug into his flesh. He wrapped their hair around his fist, pulling them up on weak knees and shoving them back down onto his cock. He held them down, nose buried in his pubes and chocking on his prick. Their throat muscles gripped his dick, and with three hard thrusts, he came, filling their throat and mouth so much his own cum spurted out their nose. He laughed darkly, kicking them off him and down the steps.

He swiped the spilled cum from his robes, flicking back his hair as he listened to the coughing and spitting of the imperial below him. With a few steadying breathes he was back on his feet, striding pridefully towards the dragonborn. She hadn’t recovered, but he didn’t care, instead, shredding the crotch of her leggings and slapping hard against her seeping cunt. “How much of an Imperial whore do you have to be to get turned on by such poor treatment? Tell me, honestly, how much did you enjoy it, and how many men in the entire empire would fuck you the way I will?” His cock was barely hard, but it was enough for now. He lifted her up by her collar, dragging her arms back and contorting her to stick out her ass. He smacked it hard, over and over till she sobbed, his hand printed in deep burning red on her flesh. He shoved in his cock, pounding into her like a drowning man without air. She moaned and wailed, sobbing when he would pull out quickly, jostling her and denying her climax. Sweat beaded on his brow as he rutted, skin slapping, and his cock back to full mast.

He was tired from holding her up, so he dropped her, chuckling deeply as she quaked. “Join me.” He knelt behind her, spanking the other cheek of her ass.

“No.” her voiced was small, strained, but it was loud and forced when she cried out, his cock shoving back into her and pounding into her womb. It stretched her out, but her neglected clit ached, craving to be touched, desperate for that release. No matter how much she begged, he chased his own pleasure only, groaning at her whimpering sounds.

When he came again, it was dry and bone shattering, the traces of his thu’um pushing her lower onto the floor. She sobbed heavily as his flaccid cock left her, her tears mixing with the dried cum on her face. He breathed heavily as he stood, groaning from the strain in his legs. Slowly, he circled the whimpering, sniveling woman, snorting at their pathetic state.


	9. Day 9: Bondage ft. Mogrul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: Unspecified  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Oral sex, Toys, BDSM
> 
> The majority of Solstheim was in debt to him, so when a debt is due – the responsibility falls to the dragonborn, and their method of payment is highly satisfactory.

He’d seen her poking around at the market stalls, he didn’t like them, but he sure loved to watch them haggle, watching them throwing and catching the coin in a boast of their wealth. They became acquaintances soon after – over a love of money – and co-existed well, until the Drovas incident.

Which is how he found himself here, digging through dusty crates of treasure – hoping to discover an item of value that would pay off Drovas’ debt - coughing and spluttering whenever a relic decided to spit up another cloud at him.

He eyed their bookshelf, perhaps a rare tome would suffice, but again, nothing but garbage - until he reached the bottom. In the gap between the floor and the bottom of the shelf was a long, short, box, fitted so snuggly one would usually miss it if they weren’t looking properly. He slid it out slowly, noticing that it had clearly been handcrafted to fit such a specific space, and sealed with an intricate latch. He listened for a moment, hearing the clang of the cauldron upstairs before flipping the lock and lifting the lid. His throat dried up in an instant.

The inside was lined with expensive velvet, shaped to cushion and protect the erotic objects within. On one half, the velvet held a collection of fine rope, all different thickness, texture, colour. From first glance, he could see some had been handcrafted, the likes that could only be found in certain cities of certain regions. He could only identify the bosmeri craftmanship.

He swallowed thickly when he glanced the other side, phalluses of every species sat snuggly in the case, all crafted of rare stones and labeled at the base. The largest slot was taken by the orsimer, veined, thick from base to tip, and crafted from orichalcum, the sight of it makes him feel just slightly inferior. This was no doubt crafted by an orc, a forge wife, probably shaped after the chief, and it was sitting in the Dragonborn’s toy chest.

He was about ready to slam it shut and crawl into a hole when the final one caught his sight. It was heavy in his hand as he picked it up, smooth spare the long vein on the underside. It was crafted of moonstone and reflected the light till it shone bright white. ‘Falmer’ read the label, and he nearly balked imagining how this mold was obtained.

“Want to see how it works?” Came the sudden voice from behind him, his heart leaping out his throat in the process. He dropped the shaft instantly.

“Hey now, no need to damage the goods! That was hard to get.” They announced, picking up the phallus without an ounce of shame, twirling it in their hands and checking for chips. “You best not have damaged any others in the collection.”

He was speechless, but at least he knew what would pay off the debt. “I want it.” They smirked; he gagged. “Not like that! I want it to pay off the debt, an item like that will fetch a hefty price to the right perverse buyer.” The dragonborn tutted, absentmindedly stroking the stone shaft, an action that Mogrul couldn’t seem to take his eyes off. He watched the way their fingers worked, palming, stroking, and twisting around the shaft, it wasn’t until a long rope of saliva draped itself over the phallus that he realised they’d stopped talking. They smirked devilishly, lathering the cock in their spit.

“Now, I’m afraid I can’t do that, a close friend put a lot of trust in me when I obtained this so it’s not for sale. Perhaps I can entertain another interest of yours?” They bounced their eyebrows suggestively. Their eyes flicked down to the case, and he was reminded of the ropes, the faint squelching slightly distracting.

“What about the ropes?” He muttered skeptically. They halted their actions, moving slowly around him to pick up a collection of densely twined ropes.

“This is my beginners set, dense, thick, they don’t cut into the skin too much and they are soft.” They came closer, winding the rope around his wrist and pulling one end so it slid over his skin. It rubbed, but not too hard, and it didn’t itch like dock ropes did. He swallowed thickly, the muscles in his neck tensing, adam’s apple bobbing.

“Perhaps there is another way you can pay me.”

Within half an hour he was strapped down, the deep red ropes - contrasting against deep green skin - binding him to the bed. The ropes were pulled to each corner, wrists and ankles rubbed gently by the binds, biting as he squirmed away from the dragonborns attentions. He huffed deeply, feeling them probe at his arse with nimble fingers, as their tongue probed the slit in his dick. They suckled it sweetly as he was penetrated, the subtle pleasure overwhelming the pain caused by his slowly stretching asshole. He cried out when he arched his back, the collar around his neck pulling the ring placed around his engorged cock – he’d forgotten about the piece of rope which connected the two. With each inhale, he felt the gentlest of tugs, his heavy shaft swaying with the pull, the dragonborn following it with gentle laps.

To be treated so gently was strange – considering how hated he was within the community – but the way the dragonborn had talked him through everything, the knots, the ring, the word, it made him feel… safe – able to let go without the worries of his reputation. The dragonborn ran their fingertips to the base of his cock, licking their lips at the incredible bulge that nearly overhung the silver ring. His cock was turning a darker green than ever with the slowed blood flow, the sensitivity rising as they gave him slow, loose, strokes, their fingers still lazily running in and out of him.

Suddenly, everything sparked at once. Their fingers pressed and rubbed against his prostate, the sensations driving him to a pleasure he’d never experienced before. He gasped and huffed, groaning deep within his chest as they continued the onslaught, bringing him to a precipice of pleasure he thought impossible. The ropes gnawed against his flesh as he twisted and turned, ankles pulling roughly at the restraint, just to bend and move, escape the conflict between the wants of his mind and body. His mind wanted him to run, unused to such overwhelming sensations, whereas his body moved on its own, hips rock against fingers, thrusting up into their palm as much as it was able. It was over too soon, and he found himself crying out when they withdrew all touch.

His hand pulled harsh against a rope, desperate to reach out and grab pull, to pull them back into him and finish what they started – all complaints died when they drew out a toy. The war chief’s phallus lay heavy against his thigh, the cool stone prickling his skin with goosebumps as they rolled it, running it against his cock then down to his hole. The ring was pulled harshly as he tried to get away, causing him to moan, an opening seized by the dragonborn when they pushed the tip against his slick hole. He trembled immensely, if he were to lower his spine, the cock would surely slip into him, but the constant pull on the bulging base of his cock was near unbearable. Slowly, he relaxed, and slowly the head slipped in.

His breath was ragged when the dragonborn took over, full cock slip in and out of him, stretching to the point he believed he would break. Were it not for the grounding touches of the dragonborn he surely would have. They tickled his thighs, his ass, making him squirm and jolt, ropes caressing then biting sharply – sensations running straight to his crotch. He grunted and growled, feeling his release quickly approaching despite the fact his cock was being neglected. His ass started sucking in the phallus, unwilling to release it whenever the dragonborn attempted to pull it out all the way – they chuckled every time – but he needed it, the way it brushed perfectly against that spot.

It felt so foreign when he came – all sharp sensations, his body fighting the binds desperately. He needed to grip onto something, dig his fingers or toes into the bedding, but he was forced to float through his orgasm, spasming with every long shot of semen that landed on his stomach. Without a doubt, it was the best he’d experienced on this little island.

The ropes left marks, small indents where they weaved together, they didn’t hurt – just like they promised – and soon the ring too was removed, sliding easily over his flaccid cock. The collar was the last to go, ashamedly he confessed it felt so natural he’d forgotten it was there.

Their debt was paid, they were even, their encounter a pleasant memory in the back of his mind as they continued their lives the next day. As he watched them, collecting their pay from the kind alchemist, he wondered briefly – who would be the next debt they’d have to pay off?


	10. Day 10: Hairpulling ft. Marcurio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: Unspecified  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Penetration
> 
> He wanted to be back in his bed at The Bee and Bard, not caked head to toe in chaurus blood. The damned lighthouse had been a death trap from start to finish, and now his hair was completely ruined.

He was filthy, injured, embarrassed, freezing, and naked, five things Marcurio really didn’t want to be. The Icy water protected his modesty but certainly not his dignity, shivering constantly from the unbearable temperature. When he’d joined the Dragonborn in their travels this was not what he signed up for. Another skin-full of water was dumped over his head, another load of chills summoned to rack his body, teeth furiously chattering together. “I knew we should’ve investigated a tavern instead.”

“Stop whining, you’re the one who fell in the chaurus carcass.” The dragonborn chuckled softly, only able to imagine how much the imperial was pouting as he lowered his head to his knees, arms wrapped tightly around his legs to keep him as closed in as possible. “And I know you were trying to hit another one, for my sake, but that doesn’t stop it from being funny.” They smiled at the way he grumbled, continuing to run their fingers through his long hair, trying to pull as many clotted clumps loose as they could. They’d briefly suggested cutting it, ridding him of the task in an instant – the poor man looked ready to cry at the mere thought.

So here they were, waist deep in the sea, both freezing but anxious to remove the damage – one for the sake of his hair, the other for the sake of their arse that was beginning to go numb in the icy water. Their fingers pulled through it lock by lock, gently pulling apart the knots and wiggling free the damp mess – a few strands came loose now and again, they dared not mention – but Marcurio seemed content with the feeling of their fingers in his hair. When they believed all was removed, then quickly ran their fingers through the strands, making their way around his head, the damp strands slipping easily between their fingers till they caught sharply, a hidden clod tucked neatly between two clear locks. They anticipated a shocked sound, a pained cry perhaps, but the sudden moan he let slip was a surprise to them both.

At that moment, Marcurio discovered he could still flush to his ears even at freezing temperatures, so long as the act of embarrassment was unimaginable, and in front of your heart’s desire. He dared not turn to face them, the idea to dive into the ocean and find the darkest hole he could being the first to come to mind.

He assumed they shifted from the sloshing of water, and slowly he felt them gather all his strands. They wound it round their fist till they met the back of his head, a sharp tug enough to pull his head back and release yet another strained, erotic, moan. Labored breaths sent clouds into the air as they slowly pulled him down, sharp grabs between gentle pulls until his head rested in their lap. Awkwardly, they bent to kiss him, his mind unable to register the sudden affection, only the tingle left on his lips after they’d pulled away told him it had truly happened. A cold wind blew past, and suddenly he was all too aware of his manhood proudly protruding from the water. He splashed around, ungracefully covering himself, but even now, as he knelt at a distance, the dragonborn taunted him with bedroom eyes and deep chuckles.

His heart pounded in his chest as they crawled towards him, tongue sweeping out across their bottom lip, catching the salt water he’d splashed upon them. “I have a theory, scholar.” They invaded his bubble without a moment’s hesitation, pressing themselves against him, hand briskly moving up his arm to bury in his locks, fingers tangling in dark with a vice light grip. “They say it is the quiet ones that are best at domination, so tell me.” They pulled hard, bringing back his head “How easily do you submit?”

They ravished his neck, all teeth, tongue, and hard wet kisses. He moaned sweetly in their ear, soft, gentle tugs in his hair as a reward for each sound, kisses laid upon his neck and collarbone enthusiastically – all whilst their other hand began to thoroughly work his cock.

When he felt the tension on his head release just enough he pulled himself up, taking their lips in a searing kiss, a startling enough move that he flipped them over, bodies splashing in the water until he was on top of them. His arms locked beneath their back, his turn to trail hot kisses down their body, his lithe figure arching to reach the dips of their collar bones. They refused to release his hair, their fingers surely creating knots, but as they pulled the length of his ponytail – pulling his lips back to theirs – for once he didn’t care, instead he kissed them with all the love he had hidden away.

They stayed like that for long, the water around them turning to steam as they felt each other freely, releasing the contained frustration from months of traveling, the love - and lust - flowing into one another through wandering hands and heated kisses.

They drank the moans he gave like water when he finally sunk into them, a harsh pull and his sounds were free to fill the air. They kept an iron grip against his scalp, one he felt with each thrust he gave, teeth gritted from the euphoric blend of pain and pleasure. Their other hand raked across his back and up his neck, fingertips grazing across the smaller hairs and toying with the strands, his small laughs mixed a sense of joy into their pleasure. Both smiling broadly, quick kisses between sharp, snapping thrusts, desperate words, and pleas from both parties as they edged to the peak together, drowning out the sloshing waves that lapped against their bare skin.

He buried his face in the crook of their neck, biting at their skin as he fucked them roughly, crying out when his release was so close he couldn’t hold back, with a final thrust, and a final pull, he came heavily into them, his ecstasy, slackened jaw, rolled back eyes, fluttering eyelashes, all on display for them to see as he was pulled by his hair from his hiding space, He fucked them through his orgasm till they finished, joining him in the foggy euphoria till the water was suddenly too cold to bare. They staggered from the water, propped against each other, blushing and grinning like naughty teenagers, and since he could still feel the slight tingles at his roots, the touch of their knuckles against his scalp – he didn’t bother to fix his hair even after they’d dressed.


	11. Day 11: Tribadism/scissoring ft. Aela

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/F  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Oral sex, non-penetrative sex
> 
> Both have suffered loss, their worlds turning upside down day by day. The underforge is their escape, but tonight, they needed to escape to each other.

The pile of animal furs laid out within the underforge had caught her off guard, whereas the naked female draped upon them was somewhat expected. Her skin was illuminated by the plethora of candles, and the half-empty glass of wine between her fingers swirled hypnotically, clipped nails rattling against the glass. Aela was shameless in the way her eyes scanned across their body, a languid sway in her hips as she slowly approached, an item of clothing dropping in tandem with each step until she stood above her, toeing off her boots with little hurry. She could smell their arousal, the damp wetness in the air around them making her mouth water. She knelt into their usual position, the day had been long, tiring, and each knew the other still mourned the loss of their comrade, so their own company would have to be enough for now.

Soft thighs pressed against the side of the dragonborns’ head as Aelas’ quim floated above, a tongue quickly darting out to part the wetting folds before pulling her down flush against their lips. Their tongue moved rhythmically against her, prodding at her seeping hole and swallowing any fluids that flowed into her mouth. Aela bent forward, smacking their swollen labia before squeezing their breasts roughly, reveling in the way they the jolted and moaned - the vibrations going straight to her clit – but continuing to fuck her with their tongue. She tweaked, twisted, and pulled her breasts by the nipple, grinding her cunt against them, taking all the vibrations the soft sounds produced. With their experienced tongue and the little help from her own fingers at her clit for the briefest moment – she came. The dragonborn was happy to lay their tongue flat, letting her lover rock and grind against the textured surface till she rode out her orgasm, intermittently placing several sweet kisses and sucking on a lip as she gasped from above.

She crawled slowly down her body, trailing kisses that were far too innocent for the member of the inner circle. The pair shuffled, grinning and giggling like teenage lovers as they locked their legs over one another, admiring the others flushed skin and lustful eyes, before pressing themselves together.

They were both soaked, slick, evident from the soft squelching sound they made as they ground their quims together, swollen clits brushing over supple, soft lips. The dragonborn sighed as she ground over the smooth skin of Aelas’ labia, her head lolling back at the freshly shaven feel against her bundle of nerves. The sudden shuddering moan came when Aela brushed over her partners, the slight stubble tickled and poking her nub in a painfully pleasurable way.

Nails ravaged the furs beneath them, weights shifting to an arched foot as they moved in tandem, rhythmic snaps of hips that ground them lip to lip and clit to clit. The forge echoed with gasps, whines, and the occasional growl as they both drew closer, powerful thighs clenching as they dug themselves against each other, brows furrowed deeply as sparks flew behind each other’s eyes. Hot white heat bursting through them as that tightening band in their core snapped.

They came together, following one another in their spasms to stay connected just that little bit longer until they both collapsed from their high.

“That’s two to one.” The redhead growled, glancing over at the smug look of her partner, sweeping the hair that clung to her forehead. Skjor had been a fair mate to them both, one never gaining more pleasure than the other, and they’d sworn to stick by that even with his passing.

Spurred on by a sense of honor and dedication, she mounted the dragonborn, pushing their knees so far back they reached the furs. Her toned thighs made it easy to sit and hold herself over the new blood, crouched on the balls of her feet as she lined them up perfectly. Thick, taut, muscle pressed against the dragonborn thighs, pushing them further against the floor as Aela began to grind, slow, sweeping thrusts that reminded them of their departed lover. Her swollen clit parted there slit ever so slightly, before her lips caressed theirs, focussing on that sensitive spot, she ground in harsh strokes. The dragonborn let her head roll back, the pleasure shooting through her, making her skin prickle and back arch, breasts swaying with each of Aelas thrusts.

She grabbed the soft mounds, molding them and chuckling at the dragonborns increasing volume, moans and huffs and whines as her climax built, slowly, torturously in comparison to the previous one. Her quim was still sensitive, but in a way that teased the bundle of nerves, rather than bringing her instant pleasure. It wasn’t until Aela started with a circular rotation, speeding and slowing with each thrust that she really began to build, the feel of her shaved labia a stark contrast to the moistness of her lips. Toned muscle trapped her bottom half, and the hands on her breasts her upper, so no matter how much she squirmed she was useless against the attentions of her superior. Aela thrusts furiously against her until a wail of pure ecstasy is ripped from their throat. A snapping band, a broken dam, and she’s coming undone beneath her. She pulls at her nipples whilst her back arches, thrusting her quim back and forth along the length of her slit as she rides out the release.

When she is done, Aela clambers off her, smirking at the strained moan she gives when she’s able to move her aching legs. They smile at each other, sharing chaste kisses as they entangle, hugging each other close and laying back into the furs. They stay that way till sunrise, all soft touches and whispers, prayers to the fallen and hope for the future, welcoming the new day in each other’s arms.


	12. Day 12: Rimming/Analingus ft. Erik

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: Unspecified  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warninings: NSFW, Oral sex
> 
> Erik still has a lot to learn about being a mercenary, and even more about the real world. It’s the Dragonborn that makes him realise just how oblivious he is, but it’s also the dragonborn that’s willing to show him the way

He was shaken, tired, his hands still trembling and the blood still dripping from his hair. Draugr weren’t something new, but the way they popped endlessly from their sarcophagi was - and it chilled him to the bone knowing how close to death he was, if it hadn’t been for the dragonborn, he would surely be dead at the bottom of the crypt by now. He flinched in his seat – they’d rented a simple room from the first inn they’d come across – the harsh words from the angered dragonborn stabbing into his chest like knives. He couldn’t bear to lift his head, though the way their boots thundered he knew they were pacing back and forth. Instead, he chose to let his tears fall silently onto his knees, unwilling to sniffle or sweep his sleeve across his eyes lest he attracted their attention – he’d shown how weak he was too many times today.

“how stupid do you have to be to back yourself up into a cor-! Erik?” They went silent in an instant, he guessed they had finally noticed the way his shoulders trembled. At that moment, the tension in his head became too painful and he let out a pained, heavy sob, the tears falling freely onto the wooden floor. He felt them fold into him, settling on his lap and pulling his face against their shoulder where he buried it deeply. The tears soaked through the cloth and the snot would leave a stain, but still, they corded their fingers through the loose lengths of his hair, rocking him like a babe with gentle hushes. It took him several minutes to sober up, reduced to infrequent sniffling and heavy, steadying, breaths. Their hands still petted him gently, coaxing him to break away from his cozy hideout.

“I’m sorry.” His throat was hoarse, but his words were ladened with regret and it stung the dragonborn to know they had played a part in his state.

“I am too.” They whispered, hand tucking back stray tendrils of his hair. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, I just –“ They heaved a heavy sigh, one that drew his eyes up to their face. “I’m so used to being alone, I almost forgot how new you are to this world, I shouldn’t have left you so unprotected, we’re partners, and I didn’t have your back the way I should have.” He was stunned, eyes wide and trying so quickly had to rub them with his fist. They were sorry?

Unsure in his voice, he wrapped his arms tighter around their waist, pulling them as close as he could and burying his face back against their neck, breathing in that earthy scent that clung to them. Only the divines knew what possessed him at that moment, but he found himself planting soft, bristly kisses along their skin, following the curve of their neck as they exposed it further to him. He was safe because of them, he needed to show his thanks and they seemed eager to receive. Before he could take the next step – thank the divines he’d read so many romance novels – the dragonborn had seized his chin, kissing him hard and pulling a moan from his throat that they drank up. They dismounted swiftly, pulling him up by the collar of his armor. Their tongue slipped into his mouth and so did his control. He was putty in their hands as they unbuckled both sets of armor.

His mind was clear enough to pull them close, feeling their body unobstructed against him. He craved the contact, so as they wandered he followed, until he Suddenly fell upon the bed, their body trapped beneath his. They were winded, both laughing as he raised himself up, observing the way their eyes shone in the dim candlelight, and suddenly he was on his back – far too distracted to realise they were shifting their weight to flip him. They kissed down his throat, nibbling at the collarbone as they undid the ties on his shirt, bunching it above his pectorals and continuing their way down. He’d been semi-hard until their tongue swept across his nipple, fingers tweaking the other, and suddenly he was at full mast, the wet pleasure of one and the stinging pain in the other sparking a new feeling deep within him.

His head sunk further into the pillow as their hands kneaded his abs, kissing along the trail of fine hairs that thickened as they disappeared into his breeches. His breath hitched as they took the band between their teeth, pulling them to his knees and allowing him to kick them away.

It was their soothing words that calmed him when he got too worked up, his lack of experience stirring such panic in him they could see it in his eyes. He evened his breathing, letting his head lay back once more as they palmed his aching shaft, slowly pulling away the restraint – he shivered as the chilled air hit him – and taking him in their hand. They stroked his full length up and down, palm twisting around the head to slick it with his own pre-cum, every sharp pump making his fingers flex into the fur cover.

He watched them curiously as they shifted one of his legs up, pushing it at the knee to test how far back it could go. Soft pants slipped past his lips as he followed their hands, one slowly pumping the base of his cock while the other squeezed his balls briefly, before pressing the thumb against his perineum. He sucked a breath between his teeth, hissing as her thumb rubbed against the tender skin – it was a place he’d certainly never explored – and found himself rocking slightly against her hand. With each push against the skin they went lower, and finally, they were thumbing at his asshole. He moaned at the attention, feeling the puckered hole open over so slightly when suddenly, all contact was removed. He whined, biting his lip to cut the sound short, and was about to lift his head when a warm, wet, texture was pressed up against his hole.

He attempted to squirm away, but the arm wrapped around his leg stopped him, as well as the hand that had re-wrapped itself around his cock. He found himself writhing even more under this foreign sensation, the tongue swirling around his hole before probing as far as it could go. The arm was removed, leaving his thigh to rest against their shoulder, and he could feel his skin become tight as they spread his ass, pushing their mouth against him, the tip of their nose pressing against his perineum. He could feel himself stretching further, tongue deeper in his ass until he felt it brush gently against his prostate. His back arched, a deep groan rumbling through his chest and in that moment, he forgot they were in an inn, and that it wasn’t just them in their own little world. One hand was twisted in the fur, whilst the other had the headboard in a white-knuckled grip.

With that reaction, the dragonborn forced their tongue to curve, consistently flicking across his prostate till his grunting filled the room. Their hand barely moved on his cock, wrist twitching with a firm grip, but from the way he writhed and huffed, they knew he was feeding off the penetration.

Instead of bucking into their hand to chase his release, he ground hard against their face, the grip on the headboard loosened, diving for the back of their head to pull them in, burying their mouth in his ass as his spine curved, his cum spurting violently over his abs. He moaned so loudly the other patrons surely heard, but as their tongue swirled one last time inside of him, he couldn’t care. It was the feeling of cooling semen on his skin that brought him from his euphoric haze.

When he was up on his elbows, he was presented with the dragonborn, legs spread at the foot of the bed, hand moving leisurely, enticing him forward. As he crawled towards them, lowering himself to their most private parts, he found his mouth watering, ready to repay the favour.


	13. Day 13: Gags ft. Teldryn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: Unspecified  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Anal fingering, Anal sex
> 
> In the darkened corner of the Retching Netch, one was out of sight but not out of ear-shot. Luckily for the Dragonborn, Teldryn has more than one use for his scarf.

The darkened corner of the Retching Netch was always neglected by patrons, save for a few doors and even fewer tables, it offered little to those staying. For the adventuring couple, however, it offered cover, the darkness to blend seamlessly into. The other patrons were illuminated by the candles, their revelry covering the soft sound of slick and skin, though they wouldn’t have been near enough to cover the Dragonborns cries.

It had been his first time with them, they’d come so beautifully he was spellbound, not only dizzy from the sweet release, by the number of books that had fallen from the shelf above and landed on his head, thrown from their place by the thu’um. They’d taken precautions since, but this had been their most dangerous escapade yet.

The night had started early, the pair tucked away in the quiet corner, sipping a drink with quiet conversation. Convinced his customers were happy, Geldis had let them be, letting the other patrons in and letting the alcohol flow like water. They’d started the foreplay with the first few customers pilling at the bar, the dragonborn nestled innocently on Teldryns lap, still quietly nursing their sujamma. Little did the patrons know, Teldryn was expertly working his finger in and out of their tight asshole, turning it in circles to slowly widen the entrance. By the time he had two fingers inside, scissoring it open, they were biting the neck of the bottle, eyes flicking to the back of their head with the flashes of pleasure. Keeping quiet was always the hardest part, he was old, but damn he was good.

They pulled his hand from the table when he inserted a third, sucking on his fingers – firstly to quieten them, secondly to encourage his cock to stiffen beneath them. He nibbled at his lower lip as they took his fingers in each hole, bouncing gently to fuck themselves with his digits to the point he had to shush them, slow them before they did too much too fast, patience was key in such a risqué position.

He pulled himself from his clothing, pumping his shaft in tandem with fingering their arse. He grew to full mast watching them, writhing, grinding, biting at their lips, tongue, and knuckles to desperately silence themselves. He presented an open palm for them to spit in to, using it to lather up his prick. He positioned them eagerly once he was slick enough, but they were all too eager as always, forcing themselves lower than they should have, the wail of pure pleasure halfway up their throat before he lunged, cock pushing even deeper and hands clamping around their mouth. His palms burned with their thu’um the force pushing hard against them, but he urged them to swallow it back up, slowly pulling his dick out in warning.

They worked their voice down to a whine, a simpering, mousy sound that had him smirking and slowly pulling them back onto his dick. He watched them go slack-jawed, eyes rolling and a honeyed moan dripping from their lips with the sheer restraint, an idea struck his mind in that instant. Quickly he unraveled his scarf from his neck, pulling it from beneath his helm and wrapping it around his fingers, tucking the tail end into the center before shoving it roughly into their mouth. It scrunched beneath their teeth, filling the slot perfectly. 

He began with slow, lingering thrusts, bottoming out, but stroking along their insides gently, their tight heat squeezing around him it was almost torture. They moaned, he could feel it through their ribs, but it could barely be heard, what was usually a deep, long, thrumming sound was nothing more than a quiet hum.

So he fucked them, hips snapping roughly upwards whilst his arms wound around them, the points of his gauntlets pressing into the waist as they were restrained, forced moans swallowed up by the gag no matter how many they chocked out. It was soaked with their saliva, dripping down onto the table as they bit into it. Teldryns’ thighs slapped against theirs as he eased himself up, slowly bending them into the table, their sounds becoming even quieter when he pressed their head into the wood. He used his free hand to grope at their ass, plying apart the flesh so he could bury his cock deeper, growling deeply – though he quickly bit his lip – suddenly remembering he no longer had his own muffle. He hung his head, struggling to contain his own sounds as he watched their ass swallow up his prick, realising he was now the weakened one, he noticed the smug look in their eye.

He pressed their face back into the wood before ripping off their underwear, conveniently ignoring the sound of protest he could just about hear – though they didn’t need to know that. He bundled that also, and before long it was between his teeth, and he was back in action. His hips were wild, animalistic, hitting that special spot deep within his partner. Though he missed their screams, he reveled in the way their eyes rolled back, their back arched, fingers struggling for purchase on the table. They were slick with sweat on their brow, all their effort in thrusting back, burying themselves on his dick as deep as they could take. They thrust their arm backward, biting his arm with nails, and not a moment later did he feel why.

Their muscles spasmed around him, squeezing and pulling him in so tight he could barely move – but he did. He fucked them through it, their rolling orgasm which made their body tremble and quake, moving the table an inch or two. He wasn’t long behind them, hot cum spurting into their hole, gag bit hard between his teeth. They huffed together, hot and sweaty, desperately in need of a bath, but as he went softer, he removed the gag.

Big mistake.

Their hole gripped him tightly as he tried to pull out, tugging his cock so the following moan was loud and unrestrained as it popped free, slick and dripping with his own cum. It wasn’t until Geldis shone a light upon him he’d noticed they’d disappeared silently into one of the rooms, leaving him cock out, with their underwear in hand – the gossip was ripe for weeks.


	14. Day 14: Tentacles ft. Miraak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: Rape, NSFW, Tentacles, vaginal sex, anal penetration
> 
> He’s losing, but he didn’t get to where he was now by playing fair, he’s willing to reduce the false dragonborn to nothing by any means possible, even if he becomes a pawn himself.

His lungs burned with the rush of power whilst his side stung with his wound, hand clutching it tightly as he sloshed in the ankle-deep pool. The fire in the dragonborns eyes blazed on, each extended step bringing them closer to him. Sarotaar had been his last sacrifice, he was running out of options fast. His eyes darted around the battlefield – what he was looking for, he didn’t know – when the waves around his feet struck a dark idea in his mind. He cowered, backing onto the edge of the center circle and tripping on the step. The dragonborn seized her chance to dive over him – and was seized herself.

With a wave of his hand, several squirming tentacles rose from the murky depths, twining around her body in a writhing mass, the inky sludge that coated them wearing off on her. She struggled against them, kicking and punching at the tendrils, strained grunts through her nose as they swiped across her body, twisting and spinning her still they still, hanging her by her ankles before the ancient dragonborn. He chuckled darkly as he stood, dusting off his robes and stepping to them – so close the punch they attempted to throw nearly reached. Slowly, he raised his hand, clasping the mask and lifting it from his head. The cloth fell from behind his head, revealing a Nord, half scarred by ancient Dragonfire. Breath caught in the dragonborns throat. His voice was gruffer without the mask, a deep tone with a rocky edge that sent shivers down her spine. He made her dizzy, the way his eyes raked over her face and the amount of blood rushing to her head.

“Submit to me, false one, and I shall forgive you for your lies. Resist and…” She sucked in a harsh breath as she felt a tentacle stray up the inside of her thigh, pointed tip nudging at her covered core, tugging and swiping at the fabric in a way that made her clamp her mouth closed. The fire in her eyes burned ten-fold, a fury he’d only seen in the dragon masters – his cock twitched. It was her thu’um that sent him flying backward, but it was her misplaced bravery that rendered him speechless.

“Very well.” He muttered, standing and raising his hand. The tentacles tore at her, flipping, twisting, and spinning her, tearing at her armor and swallowing it into the depths. They only stilled when she was bare, hung before him as naked as the day she was born. Her head hung low, unwilling to face the man that stood below her.

“You’ve been dead for so long I suppose its natural for you to be this desperate.” She saw the way he flinched beneath her lashes, his fist clenching at his side.

“Women pleaded to be with me back in my day – now submit to me!” A tentacle wrapped harshly around her throat and the others released her. She grappled at it, heaving herself up and gasping for air. Her chest heaved as she fought gravity, a smug, restrained grin on her lips as she locked eyes with him.

“Kinky.” It dropped her – suddenly she was drowning in a thick, inky, abyss, feeling it fill her lungs until she was fished out. She hacked it up, the viscous fluid dripping from her slackened jaw as she vomited another load. She looked around with bleary, watery eyes, finding herself on her hands and knees at the edge of the pool until her vision focused on the pair of boots in front of her. His thumb and forefinger took her chin surprisingly gently, and she shuddered suddenly as a tentacle licked suddenly as her quim.

“Submit.” It was uncharacteristically soft, and the look in his eyes was so pleading it made her consider, but then visions of Raven rock and the Skaal flashed through her mind. She had come this far.

“No.” She screamed as something plunged into her, winding and filling her to where it made her stomach bloat. The slick coating of the tentacle acted as a tacky lubricant, allowing the thicker length of it to flex in and out of her smoothly, a vile squelching it made reaching her eyes and making thick tears run down her cheeks despite her fighting them. He gripped her tighter, fingers pressing into her cheeks and yanking her whenever she attempted to look back. His eyes scrunched shut, the sound of her screaming making him feel sick to his stomach. Mora was truly a cruel bastard – he didn’t want it to go this far. A particularly loud screaming had his head spinning, eyes locked onto her as she spasmed, and suddenly she was ripped from his grip.

A writhing mass of eyes and arms formed above them, the echoey voice of Hermaeus mora himself descending upon the pair, and before he could blink he too was swept up in a mass of tentacles and stripped bare. Arms wrapped around them like a thick tree trunk, pressing them together. He could feel all of her, her skin clinging to him with a viscous layer – he swore as he felt himself grow harder.

“You’ve played your parts well, but I think it is time we bring this to an end.” He felt his cock pierce something, a deep moan escaping him as a tendril teased and tugged at his balls. It wasn’t until the dragonborn moaned - a trembling, pleasurable, broken noise – that he realised just what he’d penetrated. The tentacles dissipated, leaving a select few to wrap around their limbs and move them as if they were nothing but dolls. Mora bent them to his will, rutting them against each other. He wished he didn’t enjoy it, but she was already so slick and wet from the previous invasion. They each felt something small and thin probe at their assholes before slipping in, and in unison they moaned, locking heavy-lidded eyes, silently agreeing to just relent for this brief pleasurable moment which preluded death. The tentacles within them began to expand, stretching their holes and starting a lewd chain.

Miraak bounced on the slick length, causing him to thrust up, impaling his cock deep into the dragonborn. With each thrust he gave she gasped, sinking down onto her own tentacle whenever he withdrew. The torture continued for what felt like hours, endless teasing at his prostate, tender touches that built him slowly, whilst the dragonborn was over sensitive and muddled from multiple orgasms. The pressure within him started to build as the tendril lapped furiously at his sensitive spot, and soon he was pounding up into the dragonborn, grunting as his own released peaked.

They came together, roaring like dragons as they emptied, his cum filling her, and a fluid similar to the pools filling their asses. They hadn’t a moment to breath when they were dropped, splashing into the dark fluid. In the pitch, they found a hand, clasping each other as they sank deeper, drowning in an unknown fate.


	15. Day 15: Uniform ft. Fasendil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Oral sex, Vaginal sex, Rough sex
> 
> The war is over, and Legate Fasendil finds a small comfort in knowing the future of Skyrim is slightly intact. His fellow legate, however, is around to provide him even greater comfort after the ceremony.

The halls of Castle Dour were swimming with comradery, cheers of victory and the clanking of tankards could be heard echoing, all far too occupied with their victory – the slaughter of Ulfric Stormcloak – to notice the woman of the hour had slipped away. In tow was legate Fasendil, hand clasped tightly in hers as they took the steps to the lower chambers, freehand clasped tightly around his mouth to silence drunken giggling.

They were on each other the minute they entered the privacy of the guard barracks, lips locked, shushing the soft moans that rose in their throats. His fingers started on his cuirass, and the kiss broke with the sudden swat of their hand.

“Leave it on.” Her voice was low and husky, the sensation it sent through him akin to that of burning liquor. His armor hissed as she ran her nails across it, followed by the teasing prods of her fingers through the leather at his hips. Soft lips covered the expanse of his throat, hungrily sucking and licking, bruising his golden skin in a way his superiors were sure to notice later that night. “You’ve always looked so handsome in your uniform Fasendil.” He huffed through his nose, teeth teasing his lip as his eyed followed them, watching them closely as they sank to their knees.

“Call me legate.” He swallowed thickly, tongue sweeping across his lip. Their pupils were blown wide with lust, taking in his disheveled hair and flushed skin – a mix of passion and alcohol that was far too enticing.

“Of course, legate.” And with a swift movement, she was beneath his skirt, the armor plates clanking loudly together till he urged them to stop, his hand instinctively finding the back of their head beneath the garment. His breath hitched when their mouth pressed against the bulge in his thin underwear, moist kisses seeping through the fabric, cock twitching eagerly at the contact. There was barely a moment for him to recognise his cock had been removed from the cloth before it was encased in a tight, wet, heat, her cheeks hollowing to suck him deep into her mouth. His hand clapped around his mouth fruitlessly, the hard moan slipping through the gaps in his fingers. His hand kept her there, sucking his cock with shallow bobs of her head till grew to full mast and pushed down her throat.

With a loud, lewd, gag, she pulled off his cock, taking the slender length with both hands and pumping it with long, twisting, strokes. He hauled up the skirt, catching their half-lidded eyes and sickeningly innocent smile, pink tongue poking between plump lips to tease the tip. With a deep huff, he suppressed the urge to succumb to her touches, instead, hauling her up and throwing her onto the closest cot. They giggled childishly, futility attempting to silence each other with sloppy kisses.

“Won’t be long before someone notices the woman of the hours gone.” He whispered, shucking their own armored skirt over their knees, fingers pressing against the damp spot on her underwear. “We should be quick.” He arched over her, kissing up her neck till her heels knocked into him, nearly sending him toppling on top of her.

She rose her hips to grind against his erection, ankles locking behind him to keep him against her “Get moving then, legate.” He groaned against her lips, hurriedly pulling aside their underwear and sinking deeply into her. With breathless moans they joined together, narrow hips pressing into thick thighs. The experience was sobering, eyes locked as her fingers trailed up the indents of his armor till they wrapped around his collar, pulling him into her as he began to thrust. His hipped snapped into her, kissing any skin he could reach as he pulled out slowly, moaning with every hitch of her increasingly louder voice.

Before long, there was nothing the pair could hear other than the slapping of skin, passionate moaning, soft curses, and the occasional clank of their armor. Fasendil’s body covered hers, arms wrapped tightly around her as he moaned in her ear, her lips roughly suckling at his throat, bruising kissing sending him trembling. Her hands gripped onto every strap of armor she could reach, hugging him closer as he repeatedly sunk into her.

“Fasendil, gods!” she drew in a sharp breath, back arching as he pulled up, arms shucking her knees over his shoulders, the new position reaching depths and angles she never thought possible. The plates of his skirt dug into her thighs with each thrust, the sharp pain merging with the spiking pleasure he gave her when his cock began to press against her g-spot. Each lifted their skirts higher, watching as his golden rod disappeared into her quim.

Desperate whispers turned to wanton moans as their love-making turned to fucking, animalistic thrusts partnered with rough hands and hard grunts. Her body trembled violently, inner walls clenching around his cock. Her scream ripped through the castle walls, thu’um knocking items off shelves as it bounced off the walls. He was so close to spilling himself when the sounds of metal came thundering down the stairs.

General Tullius – followed by a handful of officers – filed into the room, searching for the source of the disturbance. Deja Vu hit him as - Around the corner - Fasendil thrusted roughly into the dragonborns mouth, hand pressed to the back of her head beneath his skirt. His teeth bit hard into his knuckle, masking the slight pain he felt in his wrist from where the woman had grabbed him and pulled him away on shaking legs. He threw fleeting glances around the stone wall, face-fucking the dragonborn until he felt his release wash over him in waves. With a choked cry he came, mouth releasing him to release his load across her breastplate.

“What is going here?” Tullius’ furrowed glare took in his legates, the dragonborns flushed face and slick uniform, Fasendil brushing over it with a cloth.

“Nerves sir, I believe our dragonborns place in on the battlefield, not the ceremonial stage. I believed a spruce of her armor would calm her nerves, as well as brief ventilation.”

“I didn’t anticipate how powerful my thu’um would be general, my apologies for disturbing you.” Her flush deepened in mock embarrassment, and Tullius had almost left – convinced by their little lie – until he noticed the dark blemishes that covered the high elf’s neck.

It wouldn’t be for another week that they both faced their punishment – two tainted reputations, and one sticky suit of armor to show for it – but it was worth it.


	16. Day 16: Body worship ft. Cicero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Oral sex.
> 
> The fool of hearts is united with his Listener at last, and as the keeper, it is his responsibility to show them just how pleased he is to finally have them.

The listener could hear the jesters humming as soon as she set foot in the sanctuary, the childish tune carrying down the corridors and curving her lips into a tired smile. She set her pack on the table in the first room, weary feet carrying her to the sound, finding her keeper gleefully tending to the Night Mother. Silently, she leaned against the post, content to watch him as he went about his job, coating the corpse in a scented oil that fended off decay, jigging about whenever he needed to reach a new angle. He never would have caught her, were it not for the dramatic yawn that bellowed out her mouth. She scrunched her eyes and nose, shaking the lingering tiredness away, and opening to the wide-eyed gaze of the madman.

“Listener!” He leaped from the pedestal, arms wrapping around her waist to the point she fell. Had it not been for Cicero’s reflexes, they would be in a heap on the floor by now, but instead, his arms cradled her, giving the keeper a chance to properly look over his listener. Their attire was a mess, mud caked up to the knees, blood splattered across the chest – under closer inspection it wasn’t all hers – and a collection of rips where blades and arrows had come far too close for his liking. “Listener.” His jovial tone lowered to a worried whisper, hands holding her shoulders firmly, but carefully, as if she would break any moment – she certainly felt like it.

She smiled at him weakly, feeling the energy drain from her as he led her away, smaller frame settled beneath her arm and taking her weight until they finally reached the master bedroom. She settled back onto the sheets, legs dangling over the edge, so the keeper could set to work.

Cicero moved with gentle, nimble, fingers, removing her boots, socks, thumbs pressing into her aching feet and ankles, drawing out soft moans from his listener. Next were her clothes, pulled from her legs and lifted from her bodice, gently laying her back down. Arms beneath her knees, he spun her fully onto the bed, her shift rising to reveal a slither of her midriff.

His hands worked attentively up her legs, kneading the flesh to illicit more sweet sounds from his listener. He shifted a leg onto his shoulder, pressing the heels of his hands into her muscle, moving them down to her pelvis.

“Mmm…Cicero.” His hands froze, eyes wide and locked on the listener, tongue sweeping across chapped lips. Their eyes were closed, a soft smile upon their lips as they heaved a pleasant sigh, becoming putty in his hands as he started moving again. He moved to the other leg, hands moving down her thigh when his knuckles grazed her clothed core accidentally. A sharp breath through her nose and the slightest jolt of her hip caught the jesters attention, and slowly her laid down her legs, removing his hat, gloves, and shoes.

“Perhaps the listener would like some… special attention?” his voice was pitched and lilting, cautious that he was overstepping a boundary. He watched with bated breath as they hauled themselves up, lifting the shift that covered her breasts, and wiggling her underwear down to her knees. She raised her legs, letting the fabric slip down her calves, and hang from one ankle.

“Tend to me, my keeper” he delicately took the clothing from her, eyes darkening ass he descended upon her, kissing her all the way from her ankle to her groin. He placed a collection of gentle kisses to her mons, nuzzling his nose against her and sniffing at her arousal. He felt himself strain in his pants but still leaned back to take her other ankle, treating it with chaste kisses also. This time around, when he reached her mons he kissed up, hands rubbing into her sides as his tongue dipped across her navel and continued its path.

He rubbed across her ribs next, thumbs running above each bone till he came to the curve of her breasts, taking the mounds in his hands and toying with them. He pushed and pulled at them, soft flesh molding and curving in every direction, squishing them together and burying his face between them – Smiling and the soft warmth, and the little chuckle he received from the listener. He licked a line over her breastbone, wetting his tongue quickly before trailing back down to her left nipple. He wrapped both hands around the mound, cradling it delicately like a piece of pottery, before swiping his tongue over the pebbled nipple. He swiped, flicked, and sucked over the peak, tugging it gently, eyes flicking to the listener whenever she loosed a soft gasp or wanton moan, the sound of skin rubbing together behind him. He released her flesh, and she glanced at him, cheeks flush and eyes pleading. Cruelly, he kissed down her stomach, then darted back up, hands taking hold of her right breast and treating it to the teasing sensations of his tongue. He switched between the two - sometimes forcing them together and sucking both nipples into his mouth – for another hour, the room positively stuffy with the scent of the woman’s sex, the fluid seeping from her quim and down between her ass, some of the slick had even rubbed onto her thighs in her desperate attempts create her own friction.

When his worship was over he flipped her, encouraging her onto her tender breasts with decorated compliments and soothing whispers, lips kissing at her ear and trailing down the back of her neck. He worked over her back, sharp, pleasurable moans filling the room whenever he pushed down, cracks sounding from her stiff bones. He rubbed his hands all over her, bending to lather her in kisses in their wake. He worked his way down to her ass, which he covered in slow, wet, kisses, hands clenching around the flesh in reckless abandon, libido increased now he was so close to her wetness. He parted the cheeks, burying his tongue between them to flick at her puckered hole, drinking up the wetness that had dripped down to it. Slowly, his inched up her ass, her spine bending, feeling all the muscles had loosened waking up.

With her ass raised, he only needed to lean back to see the glistening folds between her legs, and with his hands kneading at the back of her thighs, he leaned in for his feast. He hummed at her sweetness, making her cry from the sudden vibrations. He could feel her push back against him, desperate for attention – and what kind of keeper would he be to deny his listener? His tongue worked her furiously, swiping, sucking, slurping and her quim, head bobbing to lap his broad tongue over her clit before forcing it into her hole. He moans were flowing unrestricted, littered with curses as she gripped the pillow, thrusting herself onto his tongue. He could feel her struggling, the tautness in her thighs as she desperately pushed to reach her peak, so he raised his fingers to press and circle at her pearl. She came not long after, trembling and huffing as the sensation traveled throughout her, officially turning her to jelly.

Cicero grinned, swiping at the shining liquid around his mouth with his tongue. He settled the listener back onto her back, kisses, and compliments scattered around.

“Truly beautiful,” For a moment she saw him, not the jester, but the dedicated assassin he once was without the laughter, though soon his cat-like grin grew back “my listener.” She smiled back at him, gasping as he lowered his face back to her quim.

The Aedra would’ve been jealous at how much worship the listener received that night, hours of treatment across every inch of her body, the sweetest words from both the keeper and the assassin embedded in her brain. Although her soul was assigned to Sithis, she could’ve sworn Cicero sent her to Aetherius.


	17. Day 17: Orgasm Denial ft. Clavicus Vile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Oral sex, Vaginal sex
> 
> Word flows between the oblivion realms like water, and rumours of a mortal dishing out her soul to almost every daedric prince have reached the ears of many. Some are unfazed, others seek their revenge. Clavicus, however, has a different idea.

When the dragonborn entered her home, weary from a long day of traveling, she expected to eat a hot meal, take a hot bath, and collapse into bed. Not once did she expect a daedric prince at her table. She stood stock still, the doors closing softly behind her and his smirk grew. His nails clattered rhythmically against the masque of Clavicus Vile that sat upon the table, as well as a number of her other artifacts, scattered along the length.

His smirk grew to a cat-like grin as hey gestured lazily to the opposite side of the table. “Care to join me?” Arm placed back upon the masque, his layered robe slipping from his shoulder and bunching into the crook of his elbow. Making her way to the seat, her eyes trailing along the exposed skin. Pale skin sunk into the grooves of chiseled collarbones, then led his slender neck, prominent adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. A prominent chin and high cheekbones made the shape of his grin all the more sinister as he followed her too, eyes meeting briefly as she came to them. Ginger hair framed his face, slicked back, un-obstructing the long, curving, horns that sprouted from his hairline.

“Clavicus.” She said curtly, cautiously, before taking her seat, eyes glancing over the litany of dangerous items laid out. His eyes darkened, grin closing to a tight smile as he held her gaze.

“My champion.” He replied, hand moving to tap at the other items. “Or is it Azuras? Hircines?” He flashed the ring on his finger as he flipped back his hair. “I admit I’m glad you turned down Vaermina, fucking bitch.” He rolled his eyes “Surprised about Sanguine though, I’ll admit I’m almost jealous.”

“What do you want?” She cut in sharply, eyes like slits. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as he spoke, words sharp and underlyingly dangerous.

“Well, I want you.” His smirk grew as he stood, robe falling from his other shoulder. In slow waves, the cloth fell from his torso, hanging loosely over the tie around his waist. Her eyes quickly danced over his thin body, pale skin clinging to his muscles as if he was a shrine come to life. Long, slender, fingers pressed against the underneath of her chin, tilting her vision up his frame to his face. “Let us make a deal dragonborn, I will remove you as my champion, but you must give me that which I desire.”

“And what would that be?” Her voice was slow and cautious, her body rising to stand toe to toe with the daedra. Her answer came in the form of a chilled palm at the small of her back, pulling her against his chest, his breath hot on her cheek as he placed upon it a soft kiss. “Deal”

The dragonborn had expected experience – considering how old Vile was – but she never anticipated her armour turning to ash and being thrown upon the table.

Artifacts clattered off the table as she fought for a grip, the table biting into her ass as she attempted to shuffle away from the sudden onslaught of the daedras tongue. Her legs kicked with no success, knees only buckling, ankles tethered to the corners by some invisible bind. Her hips bucked at his attentions, tongue swirling relentlessly round her clit whilst his fingers plunged languidly into her snatch. With his sucks, swirls, and flicks at her clit, the dragonborns release was building, release imminent as his fingertips pressed harshly against her g-spot.

In an instant she was dropped into limbo, hips lurching to chase after his fingers. The breath was taken from her as well as the overwhelming pleasure. He arched over her as she huffed, his grin growing at the sight of her, mused and blushing down to her chest, and placed his hands either side of her head.

“I have another deal for you dragonborn, pledge your body to me, and I shall give you something to reach euphoria even quicker.” He reached down, slender fingers pushing hard against her clitoris, rolling it slowly, eyes locked on hers as they rolled back in pleasure. She nodded furiously, but still, he rolled it slow and harsh, smirking as his tongue swept casually across her pert nipple.

“Yes, Clavicus!” And suddenly he was not so composed, fingers swirling around her clit in sporadic motions, jerking the sensitive nub this way and that – the release building once more. She felt her muscles go taut, hips raising to his touch – again she found herself in limbo. She whined pitifully as he stepped back, the light chuckle drawing her onto her elbows to what him as he moved.

“Since you asked so nicely” His hands worked as quickly as they did on her, and his robes parted to reveal his swollen, slender, cock. He slickened himself with her wetness, languidly stroking himself along her slit, sharp gasps escaping her lips whenever he brushed over her sensitive nub. When he was truly satisfied, he entered her, hot, tight, heat surrounding him as he bottomed out, eyes rolling back in his own sensory overload. Once again his hands were beside her head, and as their eyes locked, he made his first thrusts, slowly pulling out the majority of his shaft till her cunt refused to let go. His breath fanned over her skin as he fucked her, teeth nibbling across her neck to her earlobe. He felt his own release building – and from the sweet, pleading, noises she made she was not far behind – and so he pulled out, her quim squeezing around his prick to hold him there.

She wailed at the loss as he nearly did, instead choosing to sweep back the hairs that had fallen to his forehead. He chuckled lightly, no longer feeling the pull on his magic – their legs spread wide for him voluntarily now, and their eyes pleaded for him to be back inside. They begged him breathlessly, soft, pleading whispers paired with watery eyes – how could he resist?

He entered them over and over, fucking them into the night. His cock was near blue from refused released, edged to the point he could scream – but she was in far worse condition. She wept for him, begged for him – weeping and banging her fists on the table in sheer frustration. Sheogarath would be pleased with how mad he’d driven her.

He bit back a moan as one thrust, nearly spilling his load on accident. She clenched around him in desperate abandon, hips grinding and following him as far as he would allow. He attempted to pull out once more but the hands that gripped his horns drew him back.

“We had a deal!” She screamed, grunting and rolling back her head as plunged deeper.

“I said I would bring you euphoria quicker – I didn’t say I would give it to you” he hissed back, moaning as her quim squeezed around him once more. “But I will offer you another deal, pledge your body to me.” He huffed, kissing up her neck. His voice was urgent as he rutted against her, chances of him spilling inside of her before the deal was struck growing. “Pledge your body – not your soul – to me, and I will give you what we both desire.”

“Yes!” Her back arched in an instant, cock hammering against her g-spot, face buried in her breasts as she pulled him down by the horns. He licked, bit, and panted against her skin, hot breath and the skin filling the air as they both crescendoed to their peak. With deep, grunting, thrusts, he spilled inside of her, pulling out quickly to land the remaining strands of semen upon her skin. She screamed at him, hands and legs thrashing against his restraints as he faded, left aching and wanting.

Her body was his, and she desired him to enter her once more – they had both gotten what they wanted, and so he was no longer needed – until the next deal had to be struck.


	18. Day 18: Role-reversal ft. Mercer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Oral sex, Vaginal sex
> 
> She can see how worn out he is, always crippled over his desk, brow set in a permanent scowl. Just for once she’d like to see him let off some steam.

“Lookin’ rough boss.” He heaved a heavy sigh, rocking back on the balls of his feet, thumbs brushing against the splintered edge of his desk.

“No shit?” she caught his glare through the thin gap of his hair, thick strands falling as he hung his head down. She copied his position, head hanging and peering over her arm, bumping his shoulder gently.

“Come on Mercer, I’ve seen you pissed but never wound this tight, what’s eating you?” His eyes quickly glanced around the cistern, spying the few members that tottered about, laughing and harassing the other till they made their way to the Flagon. With a heavy sigh, his eyes closed, forehead pressing gently to her shoulder as it lost its heavy creases.

“We’re losing our touch, we’ve barely made profit this month, we’ve lost several recruits, and to top it all off we’ve got that goody-two-shoes Mjoll, the Jarl, and Maven trying to stab us in the back as well!” The desk screeched forward as he pushed away from it, hands gripping at his scalp before running through his hair.

“Perhaps you need to let off some steam.” Her arms wound around his waist, nimbly catching his hands along the way and resting them against his stomach. He sighed deeply, glancing over his shoulder at their face – pressed sweetly into his blade.

“Doubt I have the energy for that little thief.” He announced regretfully, slowly rolling his head, then snapping it back into place, a loud crack running into his ears. She loosened her grip with one hand, twirling herself beneath his arms and placing a light peck upon his lips.

“Then you needn’t have it, I shall handle everything.” She swept away in an instant, silently reaching the ladder before turning to him, promising kiss blew in his direction.

Riftweald manor wasn’t a home, but as he eased into the tub that she’d filled for him, the exotic aromas blanketing the stench of Riften. Even the clumsy notes she played as she plucked at her stolen lute had him relaxing further, the slightest of smiles seeming even brighter on his relieved face. The water sloshed around him as he stood from the tub, cock already hard and standing proudly between his legs. Damp footprints were left in his wake as he strode towards her. His arms locked her in place, but instead of the mousy squirm and wide eyes – the expression he’s so used to in this position – she did naught but tuck in her elbows, tilting the lute to play it in the cramped position.

“Does that offer still stand?” he leaned into her, droplets of water dripping onto her as he placed kisses upon her neck, gently biting when he came to her pulse.

“Well, something is definitely standing.” He smirked at her suggestive tone, but all breath was sucked from his lungs when she grasped him roughly, tugging on his cock in long, heavy strokes. With the weight of her body - and her hand pushing his foreskin further back than necessary - he found himself edging further back, each step taking him closer to the bed, till his knees hit the frame and he was seated upon the sheets.

“Somebody’s bold tonight.” He chuckled deeply, hands placed firmly on their hips with the intent to flip then beneath him. “I should punish you for insubordination.” His skin prickled as she ran a feather-light touch along him, suddenly aware of just how naked he was in comparison to her.

“Not tonight Frey, for you see,” From her pocket she pulled a string, tugging free the familiar amulet from the leather confines “I am in charge tonight.” The amulet of articulation rested between her breast once she placed it over her head, the power radiating off her in an instant – his cock twitched at the sudden switch in momentum.

She instructed him to watch as she disrobed, and so he was unable to turn his eyes away, following every nimble movement of her expert hands, every new slither of skin to be revealed, till she was standing bare before him – save for the amulet.

She hadn’t told him to stop – and so he didn’t – watching her every move as she slickened his cock with her mouth. Her head bobbed rhythmically, wide eyes glancing up at him whenever she took it to the back of her throat. Her muscles gripped him, urging guttural moans from his throat as she tended to him. He was teetering on the edge when she pulled off, wiping the saliva from her lips.

“Lie down.” Any comeback caught in his throat, eyes flicking to the amulet before he relented, laying his heavy body against the sheets. She mounted him swiftly, ripping a moan from him as she ground her quim against his dick, her wetness coating it thickly. An impish grin shaped her lips as she leaned over, breasts pressing against his chest as nibbled at his collarbone. He strained to lift his head, brow furrowed as he attempted to watch her, the way her body molded to his. She tutted him quickly, fingers at his forehead pushing him back into the sheets. “Relax.” Her hand gently brushed down his face, and soon her body was lifted from his.

The temptation to watch her ate at him – but he knew that’s what she wanted – so he stayed, and his patience paid off. His cock prodded her entrance, slick rubbing against the head as she teased herself with it. She gasped when it twitched against her clit, and with a restrained sigh, she sank onto him.

Her hips ground in circles, thick cock stretching her hole as she began to bounce. Her breaths were sharp, broken with whines and moans when she found the sweet spot inside of her. His head rolled back into the bedding, hips thrusting gently into her, eyes closed and fingers pressing into her flesh. Under her command, he felt himself relax fully, moans flowing freely from his mouth, her tight hole gripping and squeezing his cock in the best way.

Her hips became sloppy, more desperate as she sought out her climax, leaning back, one hand balanced on his thigh as the other worked her clit. He watched her through lidded eyes, biting his lip as his core tightened, abs tensing as he felt a wave wash over him. He grunted roughly, teeth bared as he pulled her down to him, spilling into her with hot thick strands.

She didn’t relent; her walls stroking his sensitive cock as she chased her ending, his cum seeping from her quim and gathering at the base of his cock. His eyes rolled back when she came, each other’s names on their tongues as she toppled over, wet heat tight around him, and her body trembling against him.

They stayed connected till he softened, the sweat on his body drying, making him shiver as her cold breath fanned his neck.

“Perhaps you’d like to join me for a bath?”


	19. Day 19: Public ft. Enthir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Vaginal sex
> 
> The hall of attainment was quiet, the odd apprentice slipping in and out of their chamber to go about a forgotten task or private test. Upstairs all mages slumbered, all bar Enthir, who was far too pre-occupied to consider sleep.

The bosmer bit heavily into his lip, ears twitching at all the sounds within the hall of attainment. The snoring of Tolfdir and Arniel was enough to mask any noise, but unfortunately, this meant he couldn’t hear those approaching. Although the newest apprentice had their head over the side of the wall, capable of looking down onto the lower floor and observing those who approached the staircase, he severely doubted she was taking up the role. The way her body slouched against the stone, hands raking across it for purchase, eyes turned over her shoulder to watch him.

Her head rolled back, and he took the opportunity to seize the hood of her robes, pulling her up into his chest.

“You’re supposed to be keeping watch.” His hands ran over her chest, gripping her breast with a rough grip, nose buried in her neck.

“So should you.” She grinned cheekily, leaning her head to give him all the access he needed to lather wet kisses across her skin. His thumb and finger sought her nipples through the cloth, tweaking them in a way that elicited a high pitch cry. He moaned into her neck, nibbling it softly before working his way up to her ear.

“Thank the gods for the muffle or you would’ve had us caught by now.” He tugged on her lobe, licking a straight line up the rim of her ear, before kissing his way back down.

“You’re one to talk.” She ground her hips roughly, bending back towards the stone, letting his cock slip deeply into her once more. She fucked herself on his cock, biting her lip so his moans rung out over all else. She didn’t relent, pushing hard against the stone ring to drive down onto him as far as she could, the feeling of fullness overwhelming her restraint – her own moans broke through.

Enthir gripped her hips roughly, driving into her at a quickened pace that sent her over the edge – of orgasm and wall – to where she came, hand gripping his forearm as he walls contracted.

“En- Ancano!” he choked, verging on his own release until shed hollered out another man’s name. He hadn’t the time to question it before she pulled herself up, taking his arm roughly and dragging him beneath the nearest arch.

The high elf came into view not long after, the pair peering round the column to watch him. His face creased with disgust when he sniffed the air, the smell of their sex clearly in the air – though unable to discern who it had come from. He covered his nose with his arm, quickly fetching whatever he’d required before hurriedly descending the stairs.

The pair breathed a sigh of relief, leaning into one another as they steadied their breath.

“That must have given you quite the shock.” she whispered, nuzzling her nose against his. She pulled away to see the creases in his brow relax, his hands soothing the sides of her body as he drew her close.

“Crying out another man’s name when you look so beautiful is positively criminal.” He said huskily, grinding his lower half against her, his still hard cock pressing into her. “I shall have to ensure it is my name you’re screaming this time around.” He kissed her lips, tongues slipping through to tangle together, drawn apart quickly by the shadow that crossed them.

Shit. Mirabelle.

If there was someone they didn’t want to be caught by it was Mirabelle, others could be bribed if they noticed, or even persuaded to join in, but both knew Mirabelle would have their heads if she found out how they’d publicly desecrated the majority of the college. They peered around the column once more, her back pressed against his chest as they observed the Breton, gathering edibles from the table, nibbling whilst looking through the shelves idly.

The apprentice cursed softly, perhaps their escaped was over for the night after all?

Until she felt her robes being lifted, the head of Enthirs cock pressing between her folds and penetrating her for the second time that night. Her eyes rolled back, hips rocking gently against him as he picked a rhythmic paced, hips snapping in a way that sent her ass rippling. She panted hotly, fingers digging into the stone as one eye was trained on their superior, ass pushing back against his thrust that grew in force.

He was so close before, it felt like he’d been edged, the feeling of climax stinging his cock despite how buried it had become. His arms wrapped around her waist, forehead pressing into the curve of her spine as he rutted against her, feeling the slick of her quim lubricate him to reach deeper into her. His thighs slapped against hers as he gave a silent prayer to whoever had created the muffle spell, for as he glanced over her shoulder, he swore there was no way they’d be getting away with this otherwise.

He rubbed his forehead against he back, sweat wiped away by her robes as he bent his knees, drawing out a high-pitched cry as he hammered into her at this slightly new angle. They froze as Mirabelle whipped around, neither daring to flinch lest the slightest movement catch her attention. They followed her as she leaned over the edge of the hole, shouting down to one of the apprentices. So absorbed in their fucking they’d somehow missed the explosion that had occurred beneath them.

Slowly, his hips started to snap into her. Deep thrusts that drew out sharp, shallow gasps, his hand slowly moving to tease the swollen bud between her legs. Her forehead pressed against the column - forgetting that Mirabelle’s scolding could end any second – and focussed on how she wanted Enthir to finish.

Once more, she pressed back against him but this time she didn’t move, instead, she pushed to get him as deep as possible, replacing his hand with her own so he could gain leverage with her hips. He gripped so hard she’d have bruises, but as he fucking into her, she couldn’t care. He drew her back to him, burying himself balls-deep with each thrust, her walls contracting around him as she toyed her clit. She came again, shakes rattling her body as she cried out, nothing but his name of her lips.

“Gods Enthir!” The bosmer – spurred one by such a wonderful sound – buried himself deeply with three enthusiastic thrusts, spilling his seed into her till her trembling walls milked him dry. He gave few thrusts after ensuring all evidence was planted within her, before slowly pulling out. From his pocket he retrieved her underwear, helping her slip them on before their love-making slipped down her legs.

It wasn’t long till Mirabelle left, and the two slipped into his alcove, giggling as they gathered together beneath the covers. It wasn’t until the next morning Enthir realised where they had hidden – thank the gods Arniel was a heavy sleeper.


	20. Day 20: Dirty talk ft. Sibbi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Terrible attempts at dirty talk. 
> 
> When engaged in a relationship with a criminal, locked away beneath Mistveil Keep, there is only so much you can do to find sexual release. Luckily for the dragonborn this criminal has a certain silver tongue.

She watched him silently, observing the way his chest rose and fell as he slept, the faintest of snoring in comparison to that of the guards. She’d barely had to sneak past them, though she doubted they’d wake even if a dragon attacked. The Nord rolled in his sleep, reaching out for something that wasn’t there, and so he searched for it – till he found the floor.

She couldn’t stop the giggle as he rose up, holding his head as he staggered to his feet. He intended to glare at his observer – expecting it to be a guard – but he woke immediately when he set his sights upon the figure, draped in black.

“Well, well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” he pronounced each syllable with practiced ease, voice rougher, deeper, due to his awakening chords, but it was enough to send a shiver up her spine.

“Thought it would be a sore head.” She quipped, covering the effect he had on her – as usual. There was nothing more to Sibbi – other than a nice voice and a big ego – but still she found herself returning here, seeing him caged whilst they engaged in witty – sexual – banter.

He shook off her comment like a fly, coming to lean against the bars of his cell. “How my little thief doing on this fine night? Enjoying my city?” thought barely visible beneath the cowl, he knew she’d rolled her eyes, a smirk probably growing beneath the mask also.

“Not your city yet, and the way I’m headed you might not get it at all.” She too came to the bars, slowly pulling back her cowl, revealing her face to him. His smirk grew, eyes shamelessly wondering over her face, taking in her features.

“I can’t wait till I’m out of here so that I can blow your mind.” And so the game begins. Both knew they wouldn’t have a chance in oblivion in being together once he got out, but the chase was always more satisfying than the hunt.

“Funny you should say that. I was thinking about you before I went to sleep last night.” She whispered, voice low and husky as her eyes locked on his. He hummed low, vibrating in his chest as he gripped the bars, bending slightly to come eye to eye with her.

“And? What did you see my little thief?” He licked his lips quickly, pupils blown wide as he stared her down.

“Your little thief made a mistake.” She pouted, eyes wide with fluttering eyelashes. “I got caught stealing, all the cells were full, and there was only one big enough to share.” She traced her eyes across the cell, taking in the lavish furnishings. “The guards left before they could punish me,” Her eyes became lidded, “so you did it for them.” He groaned deeply, a grin stretching across his lips.

“Naughty girl, I promise I’d punish you in the best of ways.” She giggled sweetly as he leaned his shoulder against the bars. “I’d make sure you knew your place, bent over my knee with your bare ass in the air. You like it when I spank you don’t you?” It was her turn to moan, blush dusting her cheeks as she bit her lip. “I’d make you count each slap to that pretty little ass of yours, make sure my handprint stains it.” He let out a shuddering breath as the image crossed his mind.

“What else would you do to me?” She was as caught up in the scenario as he was, groin tingling and flush cascading down her neck.

“I’d have my way with you, tie you up to the bars so every guard that passed could see how well I’m punishing you. I’d take my time undressing you, no matter the armour, id make a show of it, letting everyone see that body of yours, then let them see its mine.” His hand took her hip, almost whining when he couldn’t puller her through the bars to press against him. “You have no idea how turned on you make me.”

“I think I might.” Her hand pressed against the prominent bulge in his pants, feeling out the solid length of his cock as it pressed against his thin trousers. He choked out a moan, hips thrusting into her touch. “What would you have me do to you?” She got as close as she could, hot breath fanning his ear, summoning a chill that put his hairs on end.

“Suck me, hard, take all my cock down your throat while you’re strapped up, unable to get away as I fuck that mouth.” His other hand came up her, thumb dragging along her bottom lip. “But then id want you to go slow, let me feel that tongue all over me before I come.”

“Where?”

“Face. I want to see you covered in me.” He thrusted into her tight grip, delicious friction from the trousers against his cock eliciting another moan. “Then I’d lift you up, those gorgeous legs around my waist as I fucked you.” His hand gripped her arse, fingers digging into the armour until it pinched, making her gasp as she worked him. The images of her wrapped around him were vivid in her mind, cum slipping from her lips into her mouth.

He thrusted faster, high on his own fantasies. “I’d fuck you so could, making you scream my name so everyone knew what was happening, that I was making that cunt stretch and slick with my cock. I’d do you so could you wouldn’t be able to think straight, only the feeling of my cock inside of you. I’d make you cum on me, over and over till your sore and relying on the ties to keep you up.” He breathed quickly, sharp, heavy breathes as he desperately tried to hold bake, wanting to indulge his fantasies just a little longer.

She huffed her own deep breaths, wet from the image of him so hot at the thought of her. “Sibbi…” She whined, quickening the pace of her hand. “Cum for me.”

And so he did, seed spilling within his clothes, thick, and in enough volume to seep through the stitching, oozing slowly onto her fingers. He panted deeply, heavy lids covering hazy eyes as he slowly regained himself.

“I lo-“ She pressed her finger against his lips suddenly, head tilted towards the door.

“I have to go.” And before he could say another word she was gone, dissolved into the shadows like a dying candle. Shortly behind her came the sounds of doors opening and heavy boots. Morning. Despite his lack of sleep, Sibbi made his way to change his pants, no regrets of a sleepless night, so long as it was with her.


	21. Day 21: Suspension ft. Ulundil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Whipping, Vaginal sex.
> 
> He’s innocent, polite, generous, a hard worker. There’s no other Altmer like him, let alone in Winterhold. So, when the Dragonborn pushes his buttons just a little bit, she finds he’s not so innocent, especially if you ask him nicely.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” The dragonborn wouldn’t deny she was nervous, the leather clinging to her thighs and arms was a new feeling, but she could see how worked up Ulundil was becoming from the pitching tent in his pants. He’d bound her with the horse tack before, but this was a whole new step, and whilst his body was sure his eyes shone with uncertainty, he didn’t want to hurt her, such a caring man he was. She made the effort to walk towards, humming as the leather pinched and squeezed her flesh, until she was draping her arms over his slender shoulders, fingers nimbly running through his hair.

“I trust you, and I want to do this.” He kissed her deeply, hands running over strained flesh and leather, caressing the plump build up of fat the straps pushed out. He was far too passionate a man for this world, a fact she’d found on their first night together, all pent up from his unfulfilled marriage. Auriel bless Arivanya’s soul but she hadn’t been right for him, a traditionalist, and certainly not willing to entertain the ideas they had.

“Okay.” He whispered softly, pulling away from her and moving quickly around the room. Firstly, he returned with this finest show bridle, brand new, and slipped it over her head. The metal bit pulled at her lips and clanked against her teeth, causing him to chuckle gently and the bitter face she made at the taste of metal. The noseband pressed against her head, keeping the bit in place, and the throatlatch was wound around her neck several times before he fastened it into place. She felt the loose reins brush against her ass, but not for long as he circled her to take hold, pulling her back into her original spot in the center of the room.

The next thing he collected was an armful of lead ropes, strong twine twisted together was a heavy metal clip at the end. With impressive precision he hurled the ropes over the rafters, catching the clips on their way down. He tied the end together, lifting himself up to test their hold. Once all were secured, he hung two more ropes, a padded girth strung between the two. Carefully, he guided her to it, helping her up onto it like a swing. He leaned her back, latching the clips onto the bands around her wrists. Next came the ankles, and soon she was able to lean back, fully held up by the ropes in the rafters.

He circled her several times, observing the way she swung slightly if he nudged her, the way her head fell back to follow his moves, the way her breasts had started to discolor from the bands wrapped tightly around each individual, and the way her pussy had started to give off the strong scent of arousal. He swallowed thickly as he came between her legs, parting her lips with his thumbs, a deep moan humming through his lips at the way it leaked, a loud blush coating his cheeks and ears, spreading to his neck as the scent filled his lungs. His eyes rolled back, salivating at the mere memory of her taste – she shimmied on her makeshift swing – she was getting impatient.

His shaft pressed hard against his trousers, making him bite his lip as he shuffled across the room. He would have to wait – for now he gathered up his riding crop, flicking it through the air experimentally, catching the sudden twitch she gave. He kept a distance, and struck, flattened end landing precisely on he nipple, her breast had been bound so tight it barely moved – so he upped the ante. He hit harder, circling her to smack at her breasts, ass, and thighs, angry red stripes marring her flesh. Each hit caused her to yelp, the erotism growing in each exclamation, she got off the more he hit her, and it was barbaric to think how much he got off on it too. He was about to land another hit on her thigh when he noticed the heavy strand of wetness drip to the floor and the lewd sound that he made caused his own cock to jolt impatiently.

“Ulundil.” His ears twitched. “Take me, please!” Her voice slurred around the bit, but the way she thrashed off the girth, buckles rattling along her body, till it sat against her lower back gave him enough incentive to move. The bands on her ankles now took all her lower weight, and her ass hung down to perfectly present her sweet, slick, quim.

The crop was forgotten on the floor as he loosened his own restraints, hopping out of his trousers on his way to her legs, where he nestled himself comfortably. He rested his cock on her slit, thrusting slowly, slicking the shaft and teasing the swelling bundle of nerves. She moaned wantonly, from the way his cock swept against her and the way his hands absentmindedly petted the burning flesh of her thighs and buttocks. Even in such a promiscuous position, he was still so caring.

He took heavy breaths as he guided himself into her, eyes locked on hers until he bottomed out – where she promptly let her head drop, the pleasure far too overwhelming. He locked his hands onto his forearms behind his back, huffing as he pushed his pelvis against her – moving her slightly – and withdrawing quickly. Gravity took care of the rest, and she swung back onto him until he was fully sheathed once more. The impact had them gasping in unison, and soon they found an easy pattern, slow, deep, thrusts that swung her away, and then swung her back onto him with blissful force. His hands pressed hard into his hips, pushing himself forward into her, desperate to ignore the temptation of just fucking her. “Oh by divines-!” his face was a picture of restrained pleasure, the sensations so good that holding back made them painful. Unwillingly, he grasped at her hips, a pained groan slipping through gritted teeth as he pushed her and pulled her manually.

“Oh gods-! Ulundil! Fuck me… please, gods, fuck me!” All she had to do was ask, that sweat pleading voice – although heavily slurred - still triggered something buried deep within him. He held her still, the buckles and clips rattling violently as he rutted into her, hips snapping violently to pound his cock into her. Hot breath fanned her stomach as he pressed his forehead against her, arms locked tightly around her as he rutted like an animal, feeling his cock swell inside her as he reached his climax. He cried out against her skin as he spurted into her, pulling out quickly, he humped the air as the last few shots fell to the floor.

He rested against her, the ropes holding them both up. It was the softest of chuckles that roused him from his stupor, pulling him from sweat-slicked skin to swipe back his hair, gazing over his lover with lidded eyes. They gazed back for a moment, but unable to hold their head up for too long, the way they let it lay back spurred him into action.

He removed the bridle first, their laugh echoing in the room as he nearly slipped on his own cum. Next was the ankles, then the wrists, and soon she was slipping off the girth and back onto the floor.

“I am sorry my darling, I wasn’t quite myself then.” He looked almost ashamed as he spoke, but she couldn’t fight the cheeky grin as she took his hands.

“Well then I do believe you owe me, and it just so happens I need help out of these.” He caught the way her breath hitched as she ran a hand over a tender breast, his ears perking at the not-so-hidden message. As quickly as he slipped out – he slipped back into his usual self, ready to treat his dragonborn to the greatest of aftercare.


	22. Day 22: Impact play ft. Ondolemar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Whipping, Flogging, Vaginal fingering.
> 
> The dragonborn needed a distraction, but as her eyes landed on the familiar justiciar from Markarth, she was reminded how rude, paranoid, and bossy Delphine was. Her mission could wait.

The party was in full swing above them, but the couple heard nothing save for the cracking of leather, and the short, sharp gasps that followed.

Ondolemar ran the bullwhip across his palm, circling the strung up female as she regained her breath. “Too hard?” He questioned lightly. She chuckled softly - causing his own lips to curve – lifting her head and flexing her fingers, the shackles around her wrist sent a rattle through the chain that connected her to the ornate chandelier.

“Break me slowly, commander.” He hummed deep in his throat, tongue swiping across his bottom lip as he circled once more, taking in the lavish décor around the room. It had been the first empty room they’d come across after fleeing the party, blood rushing through their veins and a poor excuse on their tongue as they departed Elenwens company. She was stripped as soon as they’d entered, and were it not for her request to ‘spice things up’ he would have ravished her there and then.

Speed-walking to the torture chambers had been eventful -especially considering the raging erection between his legs – but it was all worth it when he looked at her now. The centerpiece of his personal party, balancing on the balls of her feet, body stretched up to present all of her to him.

He slipped off his boots, silently stepping up behind her and landing a swift crack across her ass. Her back arched beautifully, shocked gasp bouncing off the walls at the sudden impact. He followed up swiftly with two cracks to her thighs, drawing out the moans she made by squeezing the burning flesh with his bare hands. He landed and smack to her ass, appreciative eyes scanning the deep handprint left behind.

He came to her front, tilting her head to gaze into heavy lidded eyes, then further to observe the heavy flush spreading to her chest. He hummed as he came to her nipples, peaked and pebbled and so enticing. He quickly made his well to his findings, gathering a flogger with several leather falls. He let it hang, twirling it in his hand so the falls flared, catching the suddenly curious eyes of his submissive. His smirk only grew when he entered their blind spot, listening to the delightful hitch in their breath, the erotic scent becoming stronger by the apprehensive minute.

He gathered the falls in one hand, lining up the shot before it cracked against their skin, the leather marking her ass with each repeated hit until it was tainted a completely different colour than usual. His eyes caught the tremble, her legs quaking as her feet shuffled, and when they parted, he watched as the thick drop of wetness dripped from her quim.

“Dirty girl.” He said simply. “Perhaps I should punish you harder?” She nodded breathlessly as he returned to the bullwhip, standing before her till they locked eyes. He glanced to their breasts and her breath hitched. The worry in her eyes quelled when he stepped up to kiss her, quick reassurance before he was retreating, lining up his next shot.

The leather cracked against the flesh of her breasts, in several successive hits, the sides of her breasts were burning, throat dry with her continues moans and intermediate gasps. He lifted a breast with the end of the whip, letting it fall till her nipple dragged over the leather tip, before swiftly striking down, her whole body spasming from the prices impact. He repeated the motion to the other breast, leaving her nipples stinging. He quelled his desire to take them then, choosing to wait till their shakes subsided, so he could once again repeat the process, delivering treatment to her mounds till they were as tainted as her ass.

He returned to the flogger, laying the falls over her sensitive skin, the material sending tingles throughout her skin and to her groin. He bit his lip, breaking just so much that he slipped and a finger between her folds, pulling to find it drenched in her fluids. He sucked on it slowly, tongue swirling to drink up the wetness in a lewd display, knowing she was watching from the corner of her eye – before returning to his previous task.

His eyes trailed down her legs, already trembling, but still pale in comparison to her breasts. He hit with expert precision, starting a trail of lashes that begun at her inner thigh and worked right the way around until it met the starting point. He repeated several times - on both sides – and by the end, she was hanging from the chandelier, a quaking, moaning mess. Her skin was slick with a layer of sweat, and her body was a mixture of tingles and dull thuds that sent shockwaves to her core. Every tender touch that Ondolemar delivered to her in the aftermath had he trembling even more so, breathless moans seeping from her lips as he kneaded her flesh, soothing the burning marks across her body. She was putty in his hands and drenched to the core when his fingers finally found their way within her, flexing with practiced dexterity so she was coming undone in almost an instant.

He worked her through it, kissing up her neck and across her shoulder and she drenched his fingers, her wetness seeping into his palm as he bestowed upon her orgasm after orgasm. Her flesh burned in a whole new way, the marks reignited with each tense of muscle, a choked sob when her breasts pressed against him, and stars behind her eyes when she came and could do no more.

She was a mess, sweat, and her own fluids dripping down her legs, her body marked to point they could possibly leave faint scars – but it felt amazing.

“I hope you haven’t finished yet.” He circled her once again, this time an extra flogger in hand. “I broke you slowly,” came his voice from behind her “now I shall break you quickly.” He crossed his arms, ready to flog her with both instruments. His party was only just beginning.


	23. Day 23: Size difference ft. Tsun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Breton  
> Warnings: NSFW, Vaginal fingering, Vaginal sex, Terrible Terrible Writing
> 
> The Dragonborn, now the savior of Sovngarde, ensures she takes all she needs from the ethereal plain before returning to Nirn.

The Dragonborn, savior of Nirn, slayer of Alduin the World Eater, was not a woman to turn down a challenge, even now, as the giant Nord struggled to force a thick finger into her quim, she pushed back, fucking herself on his digit until it was knuckle deep. Her walls were slick, tight around him as he spread her wider, circular motions spreading her own lubrication on his hand. With great effort, he entered a second finger, her body involuntarily resited the invasion, walls tightening sporadically, attempting to push out the massive girth. Yet he persisted, rubbing the pads of his fingers against her till she came, legs trembling, extended moans, and her hole tightening around him, drawing him deeper.

It had been an impulse decision, the adrenaline from Alduins defeat driving her to climb him like the massive tree he was, she’d always had a thirst for bigger men, first it was the length of the altmer, then the girth of the nords, she’d sworn the combination the orcs possessed had put her off normal sex for life, but him? She’d felt the heat pool at her groin the instant she’d stepped up to him – body drowned in his shadow. She’d held off of course, the Dragonborn was a professional – save the world first, fuck the giant man later. Step one was complete, and as she quickly recovered from her first orgasm, she knew she was well on the way to step two.

“would you like me to send you back now?” Tsun couldn’t stop the deep chuckle at the glare he received. Though tiny in comparison to him, her inner fire already had him rock-hard between his legs and near desperate to push his way into her waiting quim. He didn’t miss the way her eyes raked down his chest to his armour, the poor excuse of fur unable to hide his solid cock. He smirked, bringing his palm down against her ass, reveling in the jolt and yelp she gave as he dropped the clothing.

When he pulled her against his chest, the top of her head barely reaching his pectorals, and he could feel his cock pressing against the plush of her body. She trailed her fingertips along the length, mapping the prominent veins up his shaft before pulling back his foreskin. She was aware daring to fit it in her mouth was idiotic, but that didn’t stop her from pumping it slowly with both hands, suckling and drooling at the tip till it was lubricated, the soft growls and chocked back moans a bonus in their own way.

It was sudden, the cold rush of air as he lifted her effortlessly. She could feel his damp fingers across her back, groaning lewdly realisation one hand was enough for him to hold her up. His free hand positioned her legs like a doll, slotting her ankles on either shoulder before taking his cock in hand, running its thick, purple head against her soaking folds. He grunted at the initial resistance, her tight cunt refusing to grant him entry as he prodded gently at the hole, but with a push, the way she stretched around him had them both moaning. Slowly, he pulled her closer to him, watching as she took him all in. her breath was short and pitched, struggling with the foreign sense of fullness, the sensations of being rubbed everywhere at once. There was an unimaginable pressure on her abdomen, requiring her to pull all strength into her core to lift herself. The unmistakable impression of his cock protruded from above her mons, the head pressed achingly against her g-spot, pleasure swelling with no release.

His gaze locked on hers as he brought round his free hand, placing the palm against the expanse of her skin. He moved the flesh in circular motions, rubbing her g-spot against his cock. He growled with every muscle her body clenched, her body warm and wet and supple in his hands. She huffed, begging and urging the release. She came suddenly with a cry, ankles pressed against his neck. She tightened magically around him, her greedy pussy seeming to suck his cock in even further. He willed himself to still till she’d gone limp in his arms, huffing and sweaty, thighs trembling from release, but they weren’t done yet.

He gripped her with both hands, thick fingers into soft flesh as he moved her, feeling her slick coat his cock in the aftermath of her climax. She could barely move, not that he minded, as she’d now been reduced to nothing more than a living cock sleeve, in fact, the thought was almost enough to have her cumming again.

He rutted her animalistically, drawing orgasm after orgasm from her body, both parties in a state of unabashed pleasure, their moaning and cursing loud enough to be heard from Shors halls. He could feel his end approaching, his cock swelling in desperation inside of her. He growled as he slammed her down onto him, the biting pain of her nails grappling against his forearms adding to his pleasure. They were sporadic, the thrusts he used to burst past her barriers and empty his seed inside of her, her cunt swallowed him as she came for the final time, draining both of their energy in the most amazing of ways.

He stood for a while, huffing and watching her bleary-eyed expression before the aching in his legs became too obvious. They moaned as he attempted to pull out, her pussy unwilling to let him go it had clenched so tightly around him. It was with a cry she popped off, his head, clearing the way for seed to leak from her, and he watched every drop fall from her lips onto the sacred ground. He watched the skies, silently praying to shore that even though she was Breton, he would open his gates to her again.


	24. Day 24: Shower/bath ft. Neloth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Vaginal sex
> 
> The slight detour was a brilliant idea on the dragonborns behalf, a chance to wash away the thousand-year-old damp they’d both collected at Nchardak, though neither planned on it taking quite so long.

The waterfall was a pleasant sound, though the absence of spriggans still had his curiosity sparked.

“How did you know it would be safe here?” He inquired, nose raised as he watched the dragonborn saunter around the bank, stopping at the base of the falls.

“I cleared this place out no too long ago, your gardener asked me for assistance in collecting taproots – this was the only place I could find.” She ran her hands beneath the water, humming softly at the respective temperature, before beginning to strip herself of her armour. It wasn’t until Her cuirass was completely removed, her torso bare to the elements, that Neloth finally looked away. He leaned over the bank precariously, grimacing at the scum and algae that floated atop the surface, congealing at the edges and hiding his reflection from him. He was damp from ancient ruin water – but was this any better?

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Her voice floated over the sounds of the water, and was it not for the distinct thunk of her armour hitting the floor, he would’ve looked up, seeing the nude woman standing unabashedly beside the falls. “This way old man.” He whipped around at her quip, the shimmering water distorting her figure as she slipped behind it.

Curiousity snatched him as he pursued, ashamedly hoping to find the woman behind the falls – instead, finding a cave, so dark that one would miss it had he not been looking.

The prominent pads of his shoulders scraped against the stone, the damp stone trickling water onto his head. His mouth was set into a permanent snarl till he entered the chamber. The water glittered with the light that burst through the cracks, highlighting the woman that waded into the middle, sinking till the waters reached her neck, sighing at the cool sensations that prickled her skin.

He didn’t turn when she caught his eye, instead, he watched attentively as she raised a hand from beneath the depths, a finger crooking in a ‘come hither’ motion. He didn’t miss her cheeky smile, challenging, childish, and altogether too tempting for the old elf to ignore. He could feel her eyes upon him as he disrobed, delicately placing his robes upon a nearby boulder rather than unceremoniously dumping them. He’d taken his time, stripping the fabric piece by piece with slow, slender fingers, curling around the cloth, pulling it to reveal strips of ashy grey skin.

There was nothing to him, protruding hip bones and ribs, taut sinew at his thighs and abdomen. His skin was dappled with darker shades, the darkest being his cock, a deep dark grey that slowly disappeared beneath the water.

He stayed like that, waist deep, feet stable on the shallows and he cupped the water, rubbing it into his skin to wipe out the damp that clung to him. The water was fresh and cool, so clean it reflected the cave ceiling, making it seem as if he bathed within the night sky. His ear twitched at the splash that echoed, disinterested gaze drifting to where his companion once was – but now there were only ripples.

His eyes scanned across the banks, then the expense of black water that had swallowed her up. Water breathing. He should’ve guessed. With a roll of his eyes, he stepped closer to the edge, toes curling at the drop. For a moment, his skin shimmered, the effects of his magic coating him as he dived under. Nothingness filled his lungs as he swam beneath the pool, staring into the darkness with a heavily creased brow.

You’re being immature

His voice echoed in her mind as she swam up behind him, hands raised to attack – though his eye already stared into her from over his shoulder. His eyes never left hers as he turned, swimming up to her with a scolding glare that never seemed to work.

We both know you can’t stay angry at me. You wouldn’t have come this far if you didn’t trust me.

Her smirk grew as she met him halfway, locking her arms around his neck as he trod water, eyes rolling with an exasperated expression. His hand reluctantly held her hip, only to stop her from pulling him with her when she floated away.

Don’t misread this situation, hero. You’re merely a means to an end.

Bubbles floated from his mouth when her legs latched around his thin hips, heels pressing into his ass and bring them together. His cock twitched against her quim, the unmissable smugness across her face making his brow crease once more.

But of course, I’ll be happy to bring you your end, master.

His lips quivered, and even though her hand moved slowly – plenty of time to shake her from him and swim away – he didn’t stop her. Bubbles came from his nose as a warm hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it to life until it was hard enough to slip into her. His jaw hung as he felt her, hot, and tight – when was the last time he took a woman?

Their sex was slow, fluid, languid, like the water that surrounded them. Bubbles popped at the surface whenever they released heavy breaths, a stream of air tainting the darkness. The magicka that encased him sent delicious tingles into her, igniting the growing flame in the pit of her stomach, causing a conflict in her mind on whether she wanted to finish with a sweet release or continue this intensely pleasurable torture.

He wished it would last forever, the feeling of her around him, squeezing his cock with her inner muscles, her walls caressing the head when he pressed against her deepest, and her most sensitive spots. He enjoyed the way she quivered in his hands, feeling her for where she reacted best like she was a whole new experiment. But with such great sensations came a price, and he too could feel the pressure building, a century and more without release and the feeling was flooding him far too quickly. He felt too young as if he was inexperienced once more.

That wouldn’t do for the master Telvanni.

He pushed her back, letting the water hold her as he thrust slowly, sensual brushes of his cock in-and-out. He brought his thumb to her clit, roughly pressing and rolling it – a stark contrast to the actions of his cock – and soon there was a nearly endless stream of bubbles coming from her.

He bit his lip in restrained desperation, the way her walls quaked around him almost too much – but he refused to cum before her if only to prove a point.

The sensations were overwhelming, despite the enchantments her lungs seemed to burn, the pressure from his touches on her clit was unimaginable, and still, the gentle effects of his cock had yet to stop. All was too much, and soon she was breaking, spine bending as she came hard.

Her quim clung to him, sucking him in when he came. Thick hot spurts coated her insides, and he clung to her, nails scraping against her skin as he buried himself inside her.

His cum began to seep from her when he pulled out, thus their cue to resurface. They broke the water, making for the bank where they both collapsed. With heaving breaths, they looked to one another

Another spot of bathing was definitely needed.


	25. Day 25: Olfactophila ft. Farkas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Oral sex, Vaginal sex.
> 
> Summary: Since obtaining the blood, Farkas had thought his heightened senses to be a gift, that was until the Dragonborn came along. Now he struggles keeping his wolf contained whenever they’re near, all because of that damn lavender.

He didn’t know what she used in her hair but from that first hug – just after she’d taken her oath – it was now stuck in his mind. Her every scent filled his nostrils whenever she passed by, and it drove him crazy.

First, it was the lavender – some kind of incense that infused into the water she bathed in. It clung to hair, leaving trails in the air that he caught the moment in stepped where she once walked. He’d been drawn – curious – unknowing as to where the scent was coming from till it lead to the training yard. Then it was sweat.

It perforated her training gear, flaring nostrils as he swung wide the doors. His gaze was bleary for a moment, all fluttering lashes and squeezing shut till his brother’s voice stole him from his stupor. No words entered his brain, however, and he was consumed by the way her body move, overpowering Athis till he was lying in the dirt. It was that day he realised he wouldn’t have minded being in that position.

The third time, he’d been beside himself, smelling nothing but the iron of her blood as it trickled on his skin. He’d held her tightly that night, tears soaking her tunic. It had taken the combined efforts of Vilkas, Kodlak, and an ear clipping from Tilma to release his hold. He never left her bedside that night.

It had been three nights and four days when he smelled soap, infused with honey and tundra cotton, and he’d been happy to let it override his senses when he breathed it in, arms wrapped so tightly around her it took a lot of persuasions to get him to let go. She was welcomed back by everyone, but at the end of the night she came back to him, and he welcomed her scent.

It was a celebration – of sorts – someone’s birthday perhaps? He couldn’t remember, but he could remember her – she made that dress look so good, but it was the perfume that had him flush to his neck. It wrapped around him and pulled him closer as he danced with her, tipsy swaying that drew their bodies together till she was kissing him. He kissed her, over and over like he needed it to live. It didn’t stop – not ass they fleed the bannered mare, hands clasped tightly and the doors closed behind them. Nor as they made their way past the Gildergreen, strong arms supporting her bridle style. He took the stairs to Jorrvaskr three at a time, breathless and giggling as he shouldered through the doors.

He carried her all the way to his room, doors closed and suddenly it smelled so foreign. There was nothing but her, not perfume, nor lavender, nor honey, just her.

It was musky, heady, made his lungs feel heavy as he threw her onto the bed. His nose buried in her neck, soft moans escaping her as he made in way south. He breathed in her skin, earthy and wild, prickled with perspiration as he pulled away cloth. The dress was beautiful on her but it looked so much better on his floor.

His cock stiffened dramatically when he removed her underwear, thick fingers pulling at the flimsy item until it was discarded in a corner. The scent of her quim had him groaning, deep reverberation in his bones as it hit him, cock pushing against the confines of his trousers which were suddenly far too tight.

He was salivating when he pressed himself against her, nose prodding her clit as he breathed deeply, feeding on the heavy scent of her arousal like it was all he needed. He pulled her to him, raising her lower half to his mouth as he kneeled on the bed, her bodyweight balanced by her shoulders but supported by the thick limbs wrapped around her waist. The blood rushed to her head as he delved in, tongue swiping greedily at her cunt and lapping up her wetness. Her thighs pressed against his ears, though he could still hear her cries as she came, his tongue buried between her labia and sucking at her clit like a babe at a breast. Once again her buried his tongue against her, the scent of her orgasm making him dizzy.

Once she was back on the bed, he did away with his own clothing, the garments joining hers in a heap. He sprung free, gasping with the release of pressure as his cock was removed, only to moan when two gentle hands wrapped around it.

They rotated up and down his cock in tandem, stretching his foreskin as they teased the tip with their tongue. Her saliva trailed down to their palms, coating his dick with a slick that allowed their mouth to slip further. They were halfway when it hit the back of their throat, and despite his urge to push them further, he drew them off.

They tangled beneath the layer of furs, braced in each other’s arms, with her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He breathed her in, nose pressed to the crook of her neck. He throbbed as his cock prodded her opening, the sweat on her skin, the lingering perfume, her hair – it was all too much, making him dizzy till she urged him inside her.

He felt grounded, the feeling of her tight, and hot. It spread through him like wildfire and soon enough he was thrusting like an animal. He grunted and moaned with her, the smell of sex taking over the room as he plunged deeper. He felt light-headed as the sheets slipped from his back, and e knees came to rest upon his shoulders. He plowed into her, the tightness in his abdomen fueling the fire behind each thrust. They gripped each other, burning scratch marks that would be there the morning after and raise questions from those that saw.

However, at that moment, as the only sound was the cry of their names on each other’s lips, and his seed spilled into her – he couldn’t give a damn.

The smell of sex lingered in the air, and it clung to their skin as they huddled together, the furs discarded in favour of their own body heat. Despite that, however, as he buried his nose into their hair, all he could smell was lavender.


	26. Day 26: Roleplay ft. Sinding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Werewolf sex, Oral sex, Vaginal sex, Knotting
> 
> Little Red is hopelessly lost in the woods, but, luckily for her, the very big, and not so bad, wolf, is there to help her find the way.

The snow had fallen heavily, ground thick with a blanket of white that made the roads indistinguishable to the untrained eye, so for the lost wanderer in the woods, every turn round every tree look the same. A length of footprints, light and small, trailed alongside a set of large, deep, paw prints. The paths separated at a clearing, wherein the center stood a young woman, shielded from the nipping cold by a heavy red cloak. With a dainty hand, she held back the fur trimmed hood, eyes wandering around the tree line. She felt watched, chills creeping and tickling her spine. Twigs snapped in the distance, accompanied by fleeting shadows and slowly falling leaves, but nothing was to be seen.

Her breath clouded as she nervously tugged a tattered map from her satchel, turning it this way and that, trying to make sense of her current location.

“Lost, Little Red?” she gasped at the sudden intrusion, scrunching the map and kicking up snow as she spun. The beast was hard to miss, thick black fur coated his body, but thinned at his chest to expose dark sinewy muscle. His eyes glowed red in the fading light, tunnels of cloud rising from his mouth with each heavy pant. As he approached her, circling, growing closer with each rotation, she could see just how large he was, bigger than the ones she’d seen in storybooks, and bigger than the heads the huntsman would bring home.

Sinding watched as she rattled with fear, eyes flicking every which way, searching for an escape. He could hear her heartbeat, her blood rushing through her veins like a frightened elk. “Why so frightened, Little Red?” She swallowed thickly, wrapping the cloak tighter around her.

“I am not supposed to talk to strangers, Mr. Wolf.” She whispered meekly, but by the twitch of his ears, she knew he had heard her.

“I am no stranger I am your friend, ask it of me and I shall help you out of this place.” He crouched before her, eyes intent on hers, palm face up to take her hand, should she be willing to accept it. She looked it over warily, specifically, the long claws that protruded from his fingertips. Once more, she turned to face the tree line, mind flicking to scrunched map that now lay on the floor. She watched him a moment longer, as his head tilted slightly, ears flicking comically to a point they drew a smile from her. She gingerly laid her small hand in his, she was sure to die in this forest, so perhaps it was worth the risk.

An hour later, and she was through the trees, up a road, and through the large wooden doors of Helgen. The place had been cleared, even of the usual rabble that dared to infest such a ruin, the fresh splatters of blood along the floor evidence of such. The watchtower glowed ever slightly, slithers of light slipping through thin windows and out into the night. The sky was a slate grey now, the first glimmers of stars visible overhead, and the cold rising to were it chilled your bones. The wolf led her to the tower, and up the stairs to the first floor where she couldn’t help but sigh as the warmth of the small campfire seeped into her. For a tower in an abandoned city, the place was comfortable, the small fire and spit surround by animal furs, layered to create a soft mound to lie upon.

“Your home is very warm, Mr. Wolf.” She announced.

“All to make you more comfortable, my dear.” He replied, carefully slipping her cloak from her shoulders, watching intently as her skin prickled with the exposure. He rubbed his hands along her arms, burying his nose in the crook of her neck and inhaling her scent. She giggled heartedly.

“How out of character you are Mr. Wolf.”

“Hard to resist you, my dear.” He mumbled back, nipping at the supple flesh. She moaned, leaning her head to allow him greater access. “I do not suit this role anyways, I would much rather ravish you than treat you in any way ‘bad’.”

“Just try, Sinding.” She bumped back against him, knocking him to wriggle free of his hold. She spun around, dress twirling as she fell against the pile of hides, eyes sparkling mischievously. She coughed dramatically, all fluttering eyelashes and pouted lips for her role as the naïve damsel. “Such large hands you have, Mr. Wolf.”

He rolled his eyes, breathing deeply to compose his character once more. “All the better to hold you, my dear.” He stalked towards her, hackles raised as he towered her. His shadow covered her, making her eyes twinkle in the light, and for the briefest of moments he was lost, almost forgetting the next part in their little play. His arm slithered beneath her, grasping her hip and turning her over with a coy gasp. He chuckled at her acting, trailing a claw gently down her exposed neck. She raised herself on her elbows, looking over her shoulder to the beast.

“Such sharp claws you have, Mr. Wolf.”

“All the better to strip you, My dear.” In a swift motion, her thin dress was shredded down the center, falling open to expose her naked back and buttocks. He squeezed the ample flesh, the couple moaning as his claws sunk in. He licked up along her spine, reveling in the way her breath shuddered on her next line.

“What- what a long tongue you have, Mr. Wolf.” He grinned, sitting back to raise her ass higher. He breathed deeply, finally able to indulge in the erotic scent she’d been giving off in the woods.

“All the better to eat you, my dear.” Her slick cunt gave no resistance to his tongue as it delved into her folds, squeezing into the tight hole and lapping out her delicious fluids. She moaned with each stroke of his tongue, rocking back onto it whenever it entered. He flicked and swiped it across his maw, wetting his fur with her scent. He dug deep, teeth pressing against her ass as he ravished her, tongue swirling against her g-spot unrelentingly. She came once, then another, a forced wail accompanying a forced orgasm, a tight band snapping in her stomach that had her seeing stars. In her moment of ecstasy, he leaned over her, large hands either side of her slumped head, and his erect cock rubbing against her throbbing cunt.

She moaned at the gentle, stroking, sensation, biting her lip as he prodded her with the tapered head. “What a thick cock you have, Mr. Wolf.” She grinned up at him, reaching to hook an arm around his thick neck, pulling him down to look at her. He growled softly, red eyes glowing with desire, cock twitching with anticipation.

“All the better to fuck you, my dear.” The words were raspy, primal, and allowed him to plunge his cock all the way into her waiting quim. He moaned, but not nearly as loud as she. Her cry echoed up through the tower and spurred him to rut into her. His fur tickled her back, the mix of sensations had her smiling and moaning in the best way possible, and each time he hit that special spot, her cries and gasps became louder for a second, the sounds surely echoing out into the abandoned city.

His speed increased, teeth grinding to hold back his release until he was allowed. It was so hard, feeling her cum around him three more times before he was allowed. “What a swollen knot you have” He huffed, gasped, and rasped between each of his thrusts, the knot of which she spoke pressing against her labia. He nearly howled with joy at those blessed words, signaling their play was nearly over and he could fuck her into the furs.

“All the better to mate with you, my dear.” He leaned back, one large hand pushing her head into the pile, muffling her scream from the outside world as he forced his knot into her. She was wailing with pleasure, the short, powerful, animalistic thrusts causing friction like no man or mer could give her. When she came, her muscles clenched around him like a vice, squeezing him into his climax. His seed spilled in continuous hot threads, spilling into her womb with each short, weakening thrust. He howled weekly as he finished, loosening his grip on his partners head, listening as her heavy breathing evened out. His knot deflated, and both moaned as he pulled out, seed spilling lewdly from her quim and onto the furs. At least – he thought comically – he has other furs. She had yet to move, only whimpering with every slight movement.

“Something wrong Little Red?” he chuckled, lying down beside her and encouraging her to curl into him.

“I can’t feel my legs.” She mumbled into his chest, flushing profusely and the jolly laugh he let out. As he quietened, he soothed over her spine, snout rubbing affectionately against her head. His heartbeat lulled her into a heavy, dreamless sleep, which she would wake from at noon, against a pale, lightly haired chest, the human form of her beast beside her, but still no feeling in her thighs.


	27. Day 27: Exhibitionism/Voyeurism ft. Sanguine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Vaginal fingering
> 
> Sanguine hosts yet another feast in honor of his champion, and it’s an evening where she’s guaranteed to be the centerpiece and the main course. Just the way they like it.

The party was once again in full swing, spirits were high, the wine flowed like water, and Sanguines followers doused themselves merrily. The prince sat in his chair at the foot of the table, slouched against the arm with a glass hanging lazily between his fingers. He sipped idly, though it never once lost its volume. His robes wrapped loosely around his frame, comforting in comparison to his armour, he’d grown quite fond of his human form. His eyes perused the party-goers, sighing when his champion was nowhere to be found – oh how he wished she would accept his invitations, he promised she wouldn’t be married off again.

A flicker could his eye behind the trees. Was Sheogorath finally getting to him? A minute past and he’d almost turned away – till it happened again. A slither of contrast that jumped between the trunks, disappearing behind the bark before reappearing elsewhere. His eyes chased it, darting from tree to tree in a desperate attempt to glimpse whatever the mystery creature was.

He traced their steps, predicting where they’d next appear, and within an instant, the ground swallowed up a tree. The foot stuck out, breaking quickly so they weren’t fully displayed. So it was a human?

The game continued, dropping trees in an instant to reveal what he now knew was skin, enticing slithers, sometimes a hand, an elbow, a thigh. He lurched over the arm of his chair, a grin spreading across his face as they ran from him. He sat up straight, shuffled forward so he perched eagerly on the edge of his seat. He saw their body, slowly sauntering through the trees, unafraid to have him see her so bare. His hands gripped the armrests tightly, leaning forward as if he’d meet her sooner.

She strode forwards, hips swaying exaggeratedly. She caught the eyes of all at the table, their jaws dropped and overflowing with the wine they still poured. Whops and hollers sounded amongst them, fists banging on the table in drunken joy. As she approached the table, draping herself upon it with her eyes locked to his, many attempted to grab at her – but found themselves unsuccessful, blocked by the magic of the prince’s realm.

“Look but don’t touch.” He muttered quietly, slouching back in his chair, robes tented ay his crotch.

She swung her legs beneath her, fingertips running gently up he legs as she stood, hip popping as her heated smirk grew. She danced into the center, nimbly skipping over the place settings and flashing at the guests, receiving their eyefuls of her soaking quim – the glisten that spread to her inner thighs. She laughed merrily at their futile attempts to touch her, eyeing their erection that lay stood between their legs, bending to raise an inquisitive brow at their lustful package – only to turn with her nose way.

She left in her wake a trail of broken hearts and damaged dignity when she made it two thirds of the way across the table, fingers tucked between her legs to rub at her quim – he could see nothing, but his guests could see all, at the way their pupils blew wide was enough to make his cock twitch, just imagining how dripping she was. She kicked an empty platter to the end of the table, the foot he kicked out stopping it from toppling over the edge.

Her fingers were sucked into her mouth, tongue laving round the digits to rid them of the sticky sweetness – his mouth watered, cock forcing its way from the confines of his robes. He shivered as the cool breeze hit it, quickly taking it in hand with few broad strokes. She smirked as she watched the beads of pre-cum drip down his length, slicking his cock with every stroke.

When she eventually made it to the foot of the table, platter underfoot, she sat down, hissing at the cold metal against her arse. She spread herself wide, toes curling around the stone corners as he fingers took to her quim, collecting a drop and letting it string from her core. He watched with bated breath as the weighted string dripped to the floor in a puddle, the scent rising and filling his lungs as his cock lurched.

“Touch yourself, my champion.” She shook her head defiantly, fingers trailing feather-light paths around her flower. He bucked into the air, moaning as her eyes turned away from him. “Filthy mortal.” He strained.

It a flash of bright light and swirling colours, he eyes were locked on his new form, 8ft of armoured muscle and black skin, red accents nearly glowing with the blood that rushed through his body. His cock stood twice as high as before and twice as thick, but luckily the hand of this form could accommodate it easily.

She took to herself easily, two fingers plunging into her hole as she watched his cocked, the wetness of her quim clicking with every thrust. She got off on the soft pants and restrained moans from behind her, knowing her daedras following were thrusting into their hands just as much as he was – but he was her focus.

He sped up with her, fist tightening as she slipped in another finger, her fluids, leaking and spurting onto the floor. He thrust up into his hand just as she did, her ass bouncing off the platter, desperate to make herself go just a little deeper. He fingers curled, ramming her g-spot with experienced practice till she was howling. Legs quaked and toes curled as she came, a flood squirting from her cunt as her lungs burned.

Her juices doused his cock, eyes glowing brightly as he fucked his wet fist. The roar he let out was primal, thick, black, ooze pouring from his cock. He lurched forward, gripping the edge of the table with an iron grip an covering her abdomen in his spend. He huffed heavily, long tongue snaking to lick up the side of her face.

She smiled wryly, leaning back and pulling her knees to her, hands locking tightly around them. His smirk grew. Time for the main course.


	28. Day 28: Humiliation ft. Harkon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Rape, Vaginal sex, Vaginal fingering.
> 
> A series of rash decisions and the death of two clan members makes Harkon he needs to use stronger measures to ensure the newest arrival knows her place.

“Gather round everyone, we have an announcement to make!” Harkons voiced boomed from the balcony, echoing into every room of the castle. He reached the main floor in a flurry of bats, breathing deeply as he=is clan congregated around him. Lesser members took their seats at the tables, whilst higher members formed a line between the two. Orthjolf and Vingalmo took their usual positions, glowering at one another from behind him. Once all had quietened down, he stepped into the center, hands articulating the depth of his words. “it has become apparent to me that the deaths of Stalf and Salonia were a foiling of certain members plans to overthrow me. I’d like to remind you all that that is a stupid, and feral, idea. I have led this clan for generations and it is now that I will take you even further. So to put a stop to me would only ruin you more.” He fixed a hard glare towards his seniors, both men shrinking back, lowering their heads ever so slightly, before continuing his pacing of the tables. “The responsibility, however, goes to our latest member, their blood is on their hands and though they meant wrong they did not deserve death. They were clan, and as clan their punishment should befall to me. I cannot bring them back, but to those who knew them I can bring satisfaction.”

In a surge of bats, she was brought before the collective of vampires, stripped bare of her robes, bound in leather. Her knees ached against the worn carpet, shoulders burning from being pulled back too long. She could feel nothing in her forearms, the severe wrapping of leather letting in no air. The foul taste in her mouth was polish, the crude oil making her tongue squirm, and with each attempt to relieve the pressure she drooled more, saliva dripping from her lips like a hungry dog. She caught sight of a few members leaving, Ronthil, Serana, even Garen, all unable to see her like this, or unwilling to spend their time on her. The rest, however, she could see their eyes glow in a primal hunger, she was deer caught in a trap, victim to the passing wolves. There was gap were Garen had left the line, she could bolt through to the steps, if only she could feel her legs.

Harkon chuckled darkly behind her, his boots heavy against the rug. He stopped short, shadow casting across her damp skin. “Stand.” Her skin rippled with gooseflesh as she attempted the task, her thighs screaming, she’d been kneeling far too long, and with a simple push from his booth, she was face down on the floor. The gathering cackled, mocking as she drooled onto the floor, ass raised for all to see. Harkon chuckled, choosing to circle her like a bone hawk. “Let this be a lesson to you new blood, I choose the fates of our members, just as I have chosen yours, learn your place, at my feet, and you will prosper.” As the other members applauded, the first tears fell, but not from the treatment, but the vile way her body reacted. She could feel the dampness between her legs, all the lewd attention making her body run hot.

“Smells as if she hasn’t learned her lesson, my lord.” Vingalmo, damn that bastard and his elven nose. She watched as Harkon raised a brow, before disappearing out of her sight. The next thing, she felt a finger slip along her lips, parting and releasing the fluids between them, she chocked, desperately attempting to shuffle away from the touch. She cried out against the gag when two fingers invaded her, hooking inside of her, drawing her back to him. He rubbed the coarse pads of his fingers against her g-spot, making her tremble and moan, saliva pooling and seeping into the carpet. She could feel the damp against her cheek, as well as the tightening knot in her stomach.

“Let it be seen, the primal needs of lesser species, to be a true vampire, you must let it go.” He pulled his fingers from her, the crowd howling with laughter at the keening moan she released, and the way her arse backed up in search of more contact. He slapped her, the feeling of his handprint burned into her arse. He groped at it, pulling it apart to display her to the others before hitting again, the searing heat making her juices flow even heavier.

He crooked two fingers, summoning his lackeys to his side. “Lift her.” So they did, arms hooked beneath her pelvis, stomach, breasts, and throat, only the bare tips of her toes touching the ground. She hung her head as best she could, attempting to hide from the onlookers. It didn’t last, her head flew up as he penetrated her again, fingers pounding into her, her cunt squelching with liquid desire. She came, over and over, and she was crying before he’d even thought of relenting. The crowd laughed louder with each orgasm, but she couldn’t hear it, only thinking about escaping these binds and free herself from forced release. She clenched her so tightly the leather snapped, her screams drowning out the laughter as she came again. She was sobbing when he pulled his digits from her, feeling cold against her forearms as he sliced through the binds. The pair dropped her, but she never hit the floor, instead, landing on Harkons sheets, deposited by his summoned bats.

The congregation rose, applauding their lord as he smiled, raising his arms wide and drinking in their loyalty. “I think that concludes today’s meeting.” And with that his was gone, bats snaking their way up to the balcony and out of sight.


	29. Day 29: Sleepy sex ft. Vilkas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Unspecified  
> Warnings: NSFW, Oral sex, Vaginal sex. 
> 
> Summary: Vilkas couldn’t help but moan as he woke, the feeling of deep sleep, dreaming, was wonderful, and since his curing, it was something he looked forward to. The way he needed to stretch to rid himself of drowsiness rather than exhausted stiffness was a feeling he’d never take lightly. But the thing he enjoyed the most, was being woken up like this.

His chest rumbled with heavy snoring, the sound echoing in her ear that pressed to his chest. Her eyes squeezed shut, a yawn forcing her lips apart. The sensation rippled through her, legs straitening and back arching as an airy rumble sounded inside her head. With a deep exhale, her body sagged against her companion, cheek pressing against his broad chest. She smiled softly, the vibrations of his chest foreign yet soothing. She’d almost drifted back of, gently lulled by his snoring, until the stiff tent beneath the blankets caught her eyes.

With a cautious hand and a bitten lip, she pulled away the covers, his erection bouncing proudly. She stifled a giggle, eyes trailing over his shaft, naked from the night before. She quivered at the memory, hips still aching from his grip. He’d deserved a good sleep after such a performance, but perhaps he also deserved a good awakening?

She shimmied down the bed, carefully placing herself between his legs. She nudged him slightly, receiving nothing but a snort and a muffled grumble. With a roll of her eyes, she threw the blanket upon her, taking in the heady scent that surrounded him.

She kissed up his thighs, feeling them twitch, the coarse hairs upon them tickling her nose – till she came to his sack. She eyed it briefly before swiping at it with her tongue, taking them gently in her mouth before releasing them, watching them move as they dropped. She worked her way up his shaft, tongue coating it in a thick layer of saliva, all whilst listening intently to his sharp breathes, feeling his hips twitch with every other drag of her tongue.

She took him deep into her mouth in one go, a rare occasion where the head of his cock pressed against the back of her throat without the assistance of his hand on the back of her head. From beneath the sheets, she heard a deep groan – the type you make when someone attempts to wake one too early – but it stained, cracking off at the end with a vocal moan. She stilled, cock in mouth, her tongue carefully swirling against the underside. She felt the bed shift, heard it creak, and the sharp gasp that followed.

The sheets were flung from her, bright, doe-eyes staring innocently up at the nord. His breathing was deep, chest rising with great effort as he strained to see her, eyes blinking heavily. She hollowed her cheeks, his body trembling in such a way he couldn’t cope with = his own weight. He hit the sheets once again.

A slurred question reached her ears, gaining a short chuckle as she released his cock with a pop. Swiftly, she mounted him, thighs pressed against his hip bones as his cock twitched against her quim. His fingered crawled up her, feeling along her skin till they sat in the curve of her waist. He hummed deeply, pleasure spiking through his body as she ground her hips, warm heat covering his prick. He urged himself to open his eyes to more than slit to no avail, the heavy lids closing, spurred on by the yawn that rolled through him. Just as she had, his back arched, cock stiffening and granting the perfect opportunity for her to slip it in.

He crumbled to the bed with a broken moan, unable to do nothing more than sigh and whimper. His hands shook as she rode him, bouncing slowly so she could watch his face. He looked so conflicted, so used to being dominant and taking charge, yet now he couldn’t even open his eyes. Her hands caressed his chest as she moved faster, skin slapping against skin as she felt him desperately attempt to thrust up into her.

He was slurred mess, skin flushed and sweating, tongue lolling out his mouth – he felt far to alert and far too tired all at once. He felt weak, vulnerable, like she’d gotten by all his defenses. There was a time nobody could get by him, the slightest movement in the corridor and he was awake. But now? He loved how she could catch him off guard.

His head rolled back into the pillow, eyes screwed and hair splayed wildly. She grinned down at him, entranced by such weakness, it was so new to them both. She felt him pulse inside of her, too tired to withhold his release as normal, and soon she felt the thick heat of his seed within her. It coated her walls, seeping out between the pair and slowly dripping down between his legs. He moaned loud – the others would’ve surely heard that – body writhing with the way her cunt gripped and worked his over-sensitive prick.

He could hear the slick clicking of her cunt, forcing an eye open to watch as she worked herself to her end above him. She balanced on the balls of her feet, quim glistening with the white of his seed as it escaped her, long strands extending from her and landing on his abdomen. He groaned, deep in his chest as he watched her cum, thighs shaking, abdomen twitched, head thrown back with a pitched squeal. She sat back between his legs, both panting in sync.

She wiped the sweat from her head, smiling lazily at the pool upon his skin.

“Good morning my love.” She pronounced sweetly. His chest rose and fell, presumably struggling for breath after such an unexpected ordeal. He did not move, nor give a slur of sweet words, instead, she received his snoring, heavy and loud as if he’d returned from fighting a giant.

She shook her head with a smile, a short rest wouldn’t hurt.


	30. Day 30: Breast Worship ft. Niruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: F/M  
> Species: Human  
> Warnings: NSFW, Tiddies.
> 
> Humans were beautiful creatures, a fact he’d discovered since moving to Skyrim. They were plump, no matter what size or build they were they all possessed a softness somewhere. The new recruit especially.

His first experience had been Valenwood, the group of young men spying at the women bathing. He’d been enthralled by them in an instant, all smooth skin and perked mounds. He’d had many back in his homeland, tanned women with breasts almost as small as their minds. He was thankful he left, more so that fate had landed him in Skyrim, home to women the like he’d never dreamed.

They fascinated him, all the different bodies, some short, some tall, mousy to dominating. He’d had few in this new land – the elvish stigma such a handicap – but even still they were the best he’d had, handfuls of softness no matter their build. A Breton with hips as soft as bird feather pillows, a redguard with thighs that almost swallowed his head, and every other in between. His new picture of heaven. By far his favourite, however, were their breasts, all new shapes, and sizes, plump and heavy. They filled his hands, sometimes even overflowing, and he was lost, worshipping them like a deity.

His latest curse – Brynjolfs newest scout – hadn’t been of much interest, small chest and a pretty face, until he’d accidentally caught her changing. Armour is ill-fitting, restrictive, when it is scrounged from the wilderness and pulled from a corpse. Her breasts barely bounced when they fell from the shift she pulled over her head, the weight of them pulling them against her chest. It was as if his feet had become glued to the floor, unable to act as he gaped. He could feel his mouth watering at the sight, his cock twitching as it began to stiffen. His ears twitched, catching the soft moan as she held her breasts, massaging them gently after a full day of being crushed inside her gear.

Were it not for him biting the inside of his cheeks he would’ve whined, wringing his hands, desperately holding himself back from reaching out and touching her. When she turned to retrieve her shift, he was gone.

It became a regular thing, watching her undress and relieving himself that night, freehand pawing at his pillow. He questioned often, where they soft or firm? Where they tender? Sensitive? Would she orgasm just from his tongue on the-

“Niruin?” He snapped out of his reverie, swiping the dripping saliva from his mouth. Three pairs of eyes stared him down.

“Could be a little more subtle” Chided Thrynn, receiving nothing but a confused raised eyebrow.

He looked back to where he’d once been staring, the profile his latest fascination silhouetted by the candles. He swallowed thickly, caught red-handed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He announced, raising himself from the table. He didn’t need to see their smirks.

He approached her that night, nothing but casual trousers and a thin shirt, the holes haphazardly patched. She caught him approaching from across the room, already scooting further up the bed to make space for him.

“You look troubled.”

“I’m afraid I am, carefree me burdened by such trivia.” He looked at her as he lay back on the sheets, sighing heavily at her innocent smile. “Can I kiss you?”

She sucked in a sharp breath, hands twitching around the fabric. His chest swelled when her skin flourished, heart hammering as she leaned down to him. A man left his throat before she’d even kissed him, lips frozen above his as her breasts weighed upon his chest.

“Knew you were staring, pervert.” She chuckled lightly, taking him in a searing kiss that had the blood rushing to his cock. Hands grappled at each other, threading through hair and tugging at clothes. He gripped her, hand gliding beneath her shirt to his destination.

They were soft.

They molded in his hand, dipping and moving with each press of his fingers. He thumbed the nibble, pressing it into her breast till she moaned.

Not tender, put sensitive, responsive.

He flipped them, pushing the barrier up to her neck to lay his eyes on the prizes. He took two handfuls, kneading greedily at the flesh till she was huffing. He took a pebbled tip into his mouth, swirling it and sucking at it, drawing back his heat till the weight of the tit pulled it from his mouth. It jiggled, a grin spread across his face as he took in its darkened, puffy appearance, and moved onto the next one.

There was no neglect, where his mouth couldn’t be his hand was sure to be attentive, tweaking and twisting, pushing and pulling at the now over-sensitive tips until she was squirming beneath him, hips grinding excessively against his thigh. He kissed her breastbone, squeezing the pair to the sides of his face, eyes fleeting to the back of his head as their warmth surrounded him. He pushed them as close as possible, the flesh filling in the space he left as he pulled away, nipples just too far apart to touch each other. So he made them, sucking both into his mouth. They rubbed against each other, his tongue bringing them together and parting them with wet friction. He sickled at them like a babe, pulling at them and squeezing the remaining flesh. He humped her like an animal, cock pressing almost painfully against his trousers though rubbing deliciously against her clothed quim.

Her hand pressed into him, nails dragging along his scalp as she came, spine arching and forcing his face into her breasts. He too followed, spurting and staining the inside of his pants. She shivered, feeling his warm breath fanning across her perked nipples, his head lay heavily upon her chest. She felt the smile stretch across his face with a deep breath, giggles erupting from her lips as he smothered his face into her bosom. He looked up at her, eyes glittering with childlike wonder, hair skewed ad failing over his eyes.

“Apologies for my behaviour, I’ll have to try again to see if you can cum from just my tongue.”


End file.
